


Coming Around Again

by toasterpop (auntbijou)



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: AU after "Enemy At The Gate", Explicit Language, Gay Sex, M/M, Mild D/s, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2017-12-14 07:25:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 62,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/834252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auntbijou/pseuds/toasterpop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Returning to the Pegasus Galaxy wasn’t going to be easy.  Finding their balance again would be a challenge, and changes among the staff were to be expected.  What Rodney didn’t expect was to be returning without Jennifer Keller, and he definitely didn’t expect the changes in his friendship with John Sheppard.  Everything changes, but everything stays the same…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

The vultures didn’t wait long to start circling. 

At least, that was how Dr. Rodney McKay thought of it. Atlantis arrived to save the day, standing between Earth and certain destruction while Colonel John “Self Sacrifice Is My Middle Name; No, Really, It _IS_ ” Sheppard got ready to blow himself and the Hive up with a nuke, and Rodney “Always Saving The Colonel’s Bacon” McKay… along with a little help from Ronon, Teyla, and Major Lorne... came up with a much better plan that involved _no one_ getting sacrificed, save a few hundred Wraith... give or take one. Todd, mainly. 

Okay, so it wasn’t so much a plan as it was an accidental combination of two very bad, very hastily put together and poorly thought out plans that somehow managed to work, and a whole lot of making it up as they went along, but still, it worked. The Wraith Super Hive got blown up, Ronon was alive, though battered and somewhat rumpled, Teyla was alive and well, and Sheppard was not sacrificing himself and thus ending up very dead. 

Of course, he wasn’t going to say any of that out loud. 

They’d barely had enough time to get treated for their injuries and get a good meal in them before the shit started hitting the fan. 

Between two branches of the U.S. military flexing their muscles over who had rights to the city, and members of the I.O.A. all wanting their piece of the Atlantis pie, it was all the command staff could do to keep things together. Rodney knew something was up, though, when he realized O’Neill was quietly supplying the city with everything he could get away with, and while staff was being rotated out on leaves, no one was being reassigned just yet. 

Yet being the operating word. 

Even with all the leaves being given, the city wasn’t being left bare of personnel. It wasn’t a skeleton crew being left on the city. It was more like a skeleton crew being rotated out. 

He wasn’t sure what O’Neill was up to, but in coming days, Rodney McKay found it in himself to be grateful. “Never underestimate O’Neill,” should be a watchword for every single idiot who came into the SGC. Because seriously, how many times had the man saved the planet? “They should have known better,” Rodney would rave at Sheppard later. 

And Sheppard would only smirk. Because really, what more could he say? 

When the shit hit the fan, it always paid to have O’Neill at your back. 


	2. An Informal Meeting...

Whenever someone said, “Dr. McKay, be reasonable,” Rodney McKay took that as a sure sign that he needed to plant all four feet, lay his ears back, and _balk_. Because the argument following, “Dr. McKay, be reasonable,” was sure to be fraught with stupidity, circular logic, absurd rationalizations, and had he mentioned stupidity? 

The current stupidity was a “meeting” with the I.O.A., the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and the S.G.C. Rodney used the term “meeting” loosely, because what it really resembled was more of an attempted looting free-for-all than an actual meeting. And Rodney used the term “looting free-for-all” because apparently, most of the people sitting around the table to discuss the “aftermath” of their close encounter with the Wraith were under the impression that now Atlantis was _here_ , all her technology was basically up for grabs. 

He felt Sheppard stir angrily next to him when the I.O.A. representative for China asked if one of the city’s ZPMs could be taken to his country to help with their “energy issues,” as the man put it. 

“Excuse me,” he said, breaking in with deliberate rudeness before Woolsey or anyone else could reply, glaring at the man with every ounce of disdain and fury he could muster. “First thing, where the hell is Shen Xiaoyi?” 

Looking greatly offended, the Chinese representative said, “She was unable to attend due to an unfortunate accident.” He smiled smugly. “I am her replacement, Xueqin Zha.” 

“Right,” said Rodney with a snort. “Which means she let somebody important down when she didn’t get Woolsey replaced, and she’s paid for it with her life. You might keep that in mind while you’re sitting in her chair.” He smirked when Zha paled, then turned his glare on the rest of the people around the table. “Second thing, excuse me, but what part of _the city needs the ZedPMs in order to return to Pegasus_ was _not_ clear here?” 

“That, of course, assumes that we will be allowing Atlantis to … _return_ to Pegasus, as you say,” said Zha with a cold little smirk. “Atlantis has much to offer Earth, and her technologies could… improve… the lives of so many.” 

“What my estimable colleague seems to have forgotten, for the moment,” said Woolsey after a little cough, “is that the technology coming from Atlantis, and indeed, from the SGC as a whole, has already improved the lives of a great many on Earth. Improvement in sanitation systems, improvements in cleaning water and making it safe and potable, improvements in energy generation…” 

“Yes, of course,” said Zha impatiently, “there has been great improvement, but none that can be matched by the Zero Point Modules the Ancients created. My government is very interested in them and wishes one for study by our own scientists.” 

“The answer is _no!_ ” said Rodney, cutting off Woolsey with a grimace of apology. “There is no way I will allow _anyone_ to remove one single ZedPM from this city!” 

“Really, Dr. McKay, do you think you have any say over this?” Dr. Carl Strom leaned back in his chair, his mouth curled in a lazy smile. “And don’t you think talking of a return to Pegasus is a mite… premature? After all, the I.O.A. hasn’t made any decisions on those grounds, and…” 

“You’re the International Oversight Advisory,” said Rodney through gritted teeth. “Not the _Decision Making Committee._ You don’t have any real control over whether the city stays or goes…” 

“I assure you, Dr. McKay…” 

“Oh, please, _do_ assure me, Carl,” and McKay felt Sheppard’s steadying hand on his arm as he fought to control his temper, “but let me remind you that I have been the chief scientist of the Atlantis expedition for _five years_. Do you _really think_ that I would leave the ZedPMs vulnerable to just _any_ Tom, Dick, or Zha that wants to stroll in and _take one?? Seriously??_ ” 

And that was where the “be reasonable, Dr. McKay,” came in. 

“Whoa, that was a mistake,” he heard Sheppard mutter to Woolsey, who shifted subtly away from Rodney. 

“Okay, boys and girls, I think we’ve had enough posturing and throwing down gang signs for the day. How about we do something a little more productive with our time, like talk about what to do about the burned up parts of the Super Hive that are landing in some pretty damn uncomfortable places, huh?” General O’Neill glared at everyone from his chair at the head of the table before turning to the large map of the world on the screen behind him. “Seriously, some of those chunks smell _really bad_ , and I don’t think we’re going to be able to explain them away as _meteorites_.” 

As the man had obviously intended, several arguments started, mostly between the representatives from Russia and China about who had more and what they meant. McKay watched O’Neill smirk and fought the urge to roll his eyes. No one was happy about the burned, very smelly lumps that had turned up in the unlikeliest of places, and it didn’t help that he’d overheard one of his minions squeak in a high pitched voice, “Mum! Dad! It’s _evil!_ Don’t touch it!!” during a collecting mission earlier in the week. 

It also didn’t help that someone else had checked “Time Bandits” out of the DVD library that same evening. 

“General O’Neill,” said Dr. Strom forcefully, ending the argument. “Be that as it may, you know that there will be a decision made, and that the United Nations will be convening a special committee to discuss the issue of Atlantis, and what to do with her.” 

“Really?” said O’Neill, his brows drawing down in a frown. “Because, as director of Homeworld Security, I have to say that only the permanent members of the U.N. and the Secretary-General are cleared to know about the Stargate program, and there has been no move by Security Council to discuss Atlantis that I am aware of, and Dr. Strom, I am aware of _everything_.” He leaned back in his chair. “I have _really good_ spies. _Really_ good.” 

“Is that a fact?” said Strom, looking tolerantly amused as he shared glances with three other people around the table. 

O’Neill’s eyes sharpened, though he said nothing, casually picking up a pencil and beginning to doodle along the edge of the report in front of him. “Well, you know… not something I like to _brag_ about, but… yeah.” He looked around at the assembled people at the table and the almost smile that those who knew him best knew to be wary of gave the barest hint of a curl to his lips. “Here’s the thing. More than a few of you have been making a lot of noise, both between each other, and with other parties who you really shouldn’t have been talking to, about how to divide up the… let me see, how did Dr. Yevchenko put it? Oh, right… how to divide up the … _spoils_. Isn’t that right, Dr. Yevchenko?” 

The Russian representative’s beefy features went red and he leaped to his feet. “I said no such thing!! Is not what I said _at all!!_ ” 

“Then what _did_ you say, Vasily?” O’Neill asked easily, the half smile almost, but not quite crinkling his eyes. 

“Vasily!” hissed his assistant, but Vasily was in a flaming temper and past all care as he slammed his fist on the table. 

“I said it was only right that we _all_ get a share of what the United States, through this... _ridiculous_ SGC has denied its so-called allies! You hoard all the best technology for yourself and give us only what you think will not be used against you!” His icy blue eyes moved to McKay. “We did not realize, until you sent your Dr. McKay to work with us in Siberia, how much you had been holding back. But when we saw the ease with which he handled the generators, his familiarity with Ancient technology, we knew. We _knew!!_ You have been cheating us!” 

“Contrary to popular belief,” said Woolsey, a steely look on his dark eyes, “there will be no… dividing up of Atlantis’ assets, as someone so kindly put it.” 

“Mr. Woolsey,” said Dr. Strom tightly, “do not forget who you are working for.” 

“He hasn’t,” said O’Neill cheerfully. “He’s working for me, or rather, the SGC. Hired him this morning. I’m sure, if you check, you’ll find his resignation on your desk… oh, wait, you haven’t been to your office in a while, have you? You’ve been so busy brokering deals for something you really had no business getting involved with that you haven’t even bothered to check in with your assistants, have you? You’re getting sloppy… Carl.” 

“Jack…” 

“That’s _Major General O’Neill_ to you, if you don’t mind,” O’Neill said, standing up. He motioned to the SF’s that were standing along the walls. “Now, if you lovely folks would kindly follow these gentlemen, they will escort you to some rooms where there are some nice folks who will be asking you questions…” 

“Questions?” Zha looked furious. “What do you mean by this? You can’t hold us here! We have _diplomatic status_ , we’re immune…” 

“Not exactly,” said O’Neill with a happy little smile that veered just on this side of smug. “Remember those non-disclosure agreements you had to sign? We just want to be sure you haven’t violated any of those. You understand, of course.” He waved cheerfully as spluttering dignitaries were escorted out of the conference room and off to meet their interrogators. 

“That’s not exactly _legal_ … is it?” Sheppard watched Strom go with a particular delight. “I mean… you can’t exactly do that. Right?” 

“Homeworld Security,” said O’Neill, pointing at his tag. “ _Lots_ of leeway. Hey,” he said at their disbelieving looks. “I have to use it sometime or it’ll get rusty. Besides, I haven’t really gotten started yet. We’ve got problems, and we need to talk.” 

That was Rodney’s other least favorite phrase. It never meant good news, no matter who said it. Girlfriend, boss, best friend… it didn’t matter, it was never good. 

He squared his shoulders and got ready to follow the rest of what they were beginning to jokingly call the "Atlantis War Council" out of the conference room and to wherever O’Neill felt was a more secure location for their conversation. He only hoped the man could somehow help them figure out how to pull a hat out of a rabbit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to note here that I used a Chinese name generator found [ HERE](http://fantasynamegenerators.com/chinese_names.php#.UV2MehzO408) to come up with the name of the new IOA representative for China. So… if it’s offensive… well… he’s an offensive guy and he DESERVES it. At least, that's my story, and I'm sticking to it!


	3. Informal Meetings Go Better With Pizza And Beer... and Pie...

John Sheppard would never call himself a political animal. Oh, he understood that politics were necessary, and that was fine for the folks who either enjoyed that sort of thing, or thrived on it, but he wasn’t one of them. If he was going to play a game, he preferred it to be the kind that involved sweat, teamwork, and possibly some sore muscles the next day. Others may enjoy untangling verbal Gordian knots with their own arguments, but John much preferred Alexander’s method of simply slicing through the rhetoric and going straight to the actual problem. And as he saw it, the actual problem with the IOA where Atlantis was concerned was greed.

Well, greed, and the need to be the biggest bully in the playground with the biggest stick. At least two, possibly even three, of the individual countries that made up the IOA didn’t want Atlantis for the technology that would make the lives of their people better. They wanted Atlantis for her weapons, or for any technology that they could turn into a weapon. 

That wasn’t going to happen. Not on John’s watch. 

He followed General O’Neill out of the conference room, aware that McKay was practically breathing down his neck with impatience, and he smiled to himself. At least that part of McKay hadn’t changed. 

He had to work to keep a scowl off his face at the things that had. 

O’Neill led the way to Woolsey’s office, and John frowned, moving to stand by the desk and watching as Rodney, Teyla, Ronon, Carson, Keller, Radek, Evan, and the rest of the Atlantis War Council filed into the room. “You know, big as this room is, sir, we’re not all going to fit,” he quipped. “I mean, we’re a pretty close bunch, but…” 

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, John,” said O’Neill with a grin and he touched his radio. “Colonel Caldwell? You still there?” 

“Still here, General,” came the reply, sounding tired. John winced, knowing exactly why the man sounded that way. “What can I do for you?” 

“Me and my buddies here have a hankering to do some fishing.” O’Neill winked at John. “Can you accommodate me?” 

“As it happens, I can't. Our little friend informs me that there is shortly going to be an unexplained power surge in the Asgard beaming system, and he will have to spend some time doing diagnostics on it,” Caldwell said. 

“Well, that sounds terribly inconvenient for those IOA committee members who were counting on using it to go home. Guess we’ll just bunch up in here and wait until our little friend is done,” said O’Neill, sounding disappointed. “Thanks, anyway.” 

“No problem, General. That power surge will commence in fifteen seconds.” 

“Very good, O’Neill out.” He looked at them all. “Well, you heard me. _Bunch up!_ ” 

Startled, they all blinked at each other, then quickly gathered together, though they were all careful not to touch each other. O’Neill rolled his eyes when Rodney caught him in the side with an elbow. “Boy, the things I do for a little privacy,” he muttered, and John suppressed a snicker as they were enveloped in a flash of white light. 

 

 

 

John took a careful look around when they found themselves standing in front of a cabin by a lake. Then he turned to stare at O’Neill. “We’re not in Colorado,” he said slowly.

“No, we’re not,” said O’Neill cheerfully. “And don’t worry, Atlantis isn’t unprotected, I’ve got people I trust there. And you’ve got people you trust there, so… relax.” He held his hand out toward the cabin, though really, it was more like a house, because cabins were _small_ , right? 

This wasn’t. 

“Jack…” John began, and his commanding officer cheerfully ignored him. 

“Okay, boys and girls, let’s go inside where it’s more comfortable. Hopefully, if my team is on the ball, there’s pizza and beer waiting for us,” said Jack as he started herding them toward the cabin. “If they haven’t, well, I’m sure we can dig up something. I keep the cabin well-supplied and I have both a microwave and a stove.” 

Rodney grabbed John’s arm, tugging him around. “Where are we?” he hissed anxiously. “Because this isn’t Colorado!” 

“No,” said John, trying not to roll his eyes. “Just relax, okay? It’s O’Neill!” 

“Yeah, the same O’Neill who had me _exiled to Siberia!_ ” Rodney’s eyes were wide and only just managed not to be panic-stricken. “What if he leaves us here??” 

“He won’t leave us here,” said John, tugging the scientist to follow everyone else up the path to the house. “Why go to all the effort of smacking down the IOA and probably sending them to be strip-searched if he’s just going to abandon us out here?” He snorted when Rodney opened his mouth. “We’re not in Pegasus, Rodney, and we’re with our own kind, so to speak. If it’s a conspiracy, it’ll be a conspiracy on our side, okay?” 

“You wouldn’t be so trusting if he’d sent _you_ to Antarctica,” Rodney muttered under his breath, but he allowed himself to be prodded and pushed up the path until they were finally inside. And he stepped back into John almost immediately. 

“What?” 

“Teal’c’s here,” McKay whispered, sounding almost frantic. 

“Yeah? So?” John tried, and failed, to hide his amusement. 

“So, he hates me!” He edged behind John slightly. “Ever since that incident where he was trapped in the Stargate…” 

“Can you blame him?” John watched the big Jaffa as he greeted Ronon warmly, then touched foreheads with Teyla. It was all so very solemn… and weird. John looked back at Rodney. “Look, I’m pretty sure he forgave you after Midway…” 

“I don’t think I should take that chance… _GAH!!!_ ” 

“Good evening, Dr. McKay,” intoned Teal’c’s deep voice and John looked up to find the man standing in front of him. “Colonel Sheppard. I trust you are both in good health?” 

“Y-y-yes, yes, of course,” spluttered Rodney, trying to recover after his startled yelp. “I… we… yes. Good evening. How are you, Teal’c?” 

“I am quite well, Dr. McKay,” said Teal’c, inclining his head to the scientist. He turned his head slightly and offered a sly wink to John. “There is food and there are a number of intoxicating beverages for those who wish to partake. Colonel Carter ordered… pizzas. They are hot. Now.” 

“Oh… okay,” Rodney said faintly, and John hid a grin behind one hand as he pushed Rodney forward with the other. “Pizza is good.” 

“Indeed,” said Teal’c, and he turned to lead them to the living area. He stopped, then turned to look back at Rodney. “And Dr. McKay, I forgave you long ago for the incident where I was trapped inside the Stargate. You have learned a great deal since that time, and were the same thing to happen now…” 

McKay stared up at Teal’c for a long moment before swallowing hard. “Yes, well, if it happened now, I … would do everything I could to rescue the person trapped inside, no matter if I knew them or not. I… understand the Stargate more now… and I… would save them. Somehow.” 

“I know,” said Teal’c gently. He nodded at John, then went to join the others. 

“There, see?” John smirked as Rodney glared at him. “All forgiven.” 

“Rodney, you need to eat.” 

Rodney nearly jumped out of his skin when his girlfriend… fiancee… _whatever_ … came and laid a hand on his shoulder. She frowned. “Rodney, you okay? You’re awful jumpy…” 

“It’s nothing,” he said quickly, glaring significantly at John before turning a smile back to Keller. “Just… after confrontation nerves, you know how it is.” 

“Uh-huh,” she said dubiously, shooting a quick glance at John. “Well, come eat before you get hypoglycemic, okay?” 

“Sure, sure…” McKay said distractedly before beaming that besotted little smile after her when she finally left them. “She knows me so well!” he said happily. 

“Sure, she does, buddy,” John said, clapping a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Come on, she’s right, you need to eat. Fortification for when O’Neill finally lets us in on his diabolical plan or whatever.” 

Rodney nodded happily and hurried after Jennifer, leaving John to watch and try to ignore the twinge in his chest that he got every time something like this happened. 

 

 

 

Jack watched the members of Atlantis’ command staff finally start to relax and settle down. The “informal get-together” the IOA had insisted on had rapidly turned into an inquisition- _cum_ -scavenger hunt, but he was glad it had happened. They needed to know, needed to know what people were thinking, and as bad of a shock as the Atlantis people had gotten at the IOA’s meeting, what they were facing tomorrow when they met with the Joint Chiefs of Staff would be even worse. He grimaced as he thought of the requests that crossed his desk regularly now. Even though he was the director of Homeworld Security and supposed to leave the running of the SGC to Carter, he still managed to have his finger in the SGC pie, so to speak… and speaking of pie…

“Here you go, Jack,” was murmured in his ear as a plate slid in front of him, and the scent of his favorite person in the world, the smell of books, ink, leather, and foreign spices, filled his nostrils and settled his nerves. The hand on his shoulder squeezed gently, and then Daniel was already making his way over to where McKay was waving his hands, ranting to Carter about the problems inherent in trying to create another Stargate bridge. Jack picked up his fork and started working on the pie, a nice slice of blueberry. Not his favorite, but it was pie, and pie should always be appreciated. 

He waited until everyone was settled and about as comfortable as they were going to get, and once Daniel was seated next to him, notes in hand, he began. 

“Okay, well… there’s no way I can really sugarcoat this, folks, so… I’m just going to come right out and say it.” He sighed as every single face turned to look at him and paled. Yeah, he had their attention all right. “Atlantis is in a rather… precarious position at the moment. You see, as long as she was off in another galaxy, she was nice and abstract, and… far away. Nobody could really touch her, though they wanted to, believe me, they _really_ , really wanted to.” 

“General,” said Carter with a little frown, and Jack grimaced. 

“Fine, I’ll get to the point.” He picked up a folder. “Two days ago, _this_ came across my desk.” He took out a sheaf of papers and passed them around. “As you can see, it’s a request to have the city of Atlantis declared a territory of the United States, mostly on the grounds that she’s inside U.S. territorial waters. And that the SGC is under technically under Air Force command, and Atlantis is under SGC command, so blah, blah, blah, lots of legalese, you can see where I’m going.” 

“All too well,” said Woolsey from his perch on a chair. He frowned down at the papers in his hand. “Of course, they do realize that all we have to do is move the city out past the twelve nautical mile limit, and we’ll be in international waters?” 

“Yeah, they do,” said Jack slowly. “Which is why they didn’t want you to know anything about it. They didn’t want to let _me_ know anything about it, but I’m in charge of Homeworld Security, and they sort of _had_ to pass it by me. Guess they hoped I’d sign it and not read it, considering it was buried in the middle of a thick stack of stuff I needed to sign.” He threw it down. “It’s mostly the Navy making the most noise about wanting to keep Atlantis, since… she’s a city on the water. They keep yapping about her ‘strategic value’ and advanced weaponry, though who exactly they think they’re going to be using it against is beyond me.” 

“China,” said Daniel bluntly. He frowned when Jack snorted. “Jack, come on… China is already trying to get around the restrictions we’ve set for the distribution of Ancient technology, and we’ve already caught several of their operatives trying to smuggle plans for the drone weapons out of Area 51. That was why we had to pull their scientists out from the labs there, remember?” 

“I remember, Danny,” Jack said heavily. He looked at John. “Are there any Chinese scientists on Atlantis?” 

“Three,” said McKay with a frown. “But they have refused contact with anyone from their government since our return. In fact, they haven’t left the city since we got here. Dr. Pei even said she was afraid she’d be taken and tortured for information if she left the city. I… didn’t believe her, I thought she was just being overdramatic, but…I didn’t order her to leave or anything…” He turned to look at Colonel Sheppard, who immediately stood and started talking into his radio. “Do you think they’re safe? Our people, I mean?” 

Jack liked that McKay thought of those three Chinese scientists as “our people,” and didn’t just discard them because they were inconvenient. It said a great deal about how much the man had matured during his time in Pegasus. “Yeah, as long as they stay on Atlantis. Have they called China or talked to their families?” 

“No,” said Teyla, speaking up for the first time since arriving in Jack’s home. “I offered them the opportunity to use your Skype to talk to their families, but they turned it down, saying it was too dangerous. I did not press them, but I am concerned about their well being. They all three seem incredibly stressed.” 

John turned to Jack. “Sgt. Stackhouse reports that a Zodiac tried to board the west pier, but hit the shield. He sent a SEAL team out to investigate and they found no bodies, but it looks like they tried to go under the shield.” He smirked. “Guess they didn’t realize the shield is a sphere around the city.” 

“Have they found anything else?” 

“No,” said John after listening for a moment. “Looks like they swam back to the mainland. Stackhouse is sending out a cloaked Jumper, just in case.” 

“Good man,” said Jack with a sigh. He met Woolsey’s eyes. “You can bet that was a Chinese team, going after one of the scientists.” 

“Why Chinese?” asked Richard after a stunned moment. 

“If it had been one of ours, they would have stuck around and waited for one of your teams to come rescue them and infiltrated that way.” Jack shook his head at Richard’s shock. “Really, would we suspect our own guys?” 

John snorted. “You’d be surprised, actually.” 

“General,” said Evan, holding up the report, “what I don’t understand is _why?_ I mean, really, what possible good is it going to do them to have Atlantis? The things it looks like they want to do here, it’s all so… _small_. Atlantis is _a flying city_ , and they want to waste it on _China??_ ” 

“You have to understand,” said Jack slowly, “even though they’ve been read in on the Stargate program, it’s still all so… _out there_ for them. I mean, they’ve never seen a Goa’uld. They’ve never run into a pitched battle with Jaffa warriors, or dealt with the Ori. It’s not _real_ for them. It’s not… immediate. Even the Wraith… we read them in, showed them that clip of John getting fed on…” He winced at their gasps and sighed. “Come on, these people _moved the chair out of Antarctica!!_ The fact that anyone found out about it in the first place…” he threw his hands up with frustration and stood. “Now, Atlantis is _here_ , and all they can see is how it can help them in the here and now against the old familiar enemies. Not abstract ones that sound either like characters from a bad science fiction movie, or from their most terrifying nightmares.” 

“It seems to me,” said Carter from where she was curled by Tealc’ on one of the couches, “that what we really need to do is point out that the non-aggression treaty that all the members of the IOA and the U.N. Security Council had to sign in order to be read in. It prohibits them from taking any action against each other.” 

“No,” said Woolsey slowly. “No, that won’t work at all. However, what will is threatening to take the SGC out of Earth’s control entirely.” 

“What do you mean?” Carter asked, sitting up as her eyes sparkled with interest. “What are you planning?” 

“I’m not sure just yet,” said Richard Woolsey, his own eyes gleaming now. “But… I think… I think it just may do the trick…” 


	4. You Can't Always Get What You Want...

Everything was laid out all nice and neat for the meeting. General Francis Maynard, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, couldn’t help shaking his head slowly as he moved along the table, watching as staff moved quietly to make sure all the water carafes were filled and all pencils were sharpened. This meeting was not going to go the way Admiral Crawford was hoping.

He’d be amused by it, if he weren’t so damned frustrated. President Hayes had made it clear to Maynard that Stargate Command had final say in the disposition of Atlantis, and that no matter what the Chief of Naval Operations, or their allies thought, that was not subject for debate. Maynard had spent a very frustrating three hours the night before with the CNO and his staff, and even now, his stomach soured at the memory. They didn’t pay him enough for this sort of shit storm. 

He wondered if Crawford even understood the significance of the fact that they were having this meeting _on Atlantis?_ And _not_ in Washington, as Crawford had insisted? 

Yeah. Shit storm. 

“Well, you look grumpy.” 

Maynard turned around and smiled at the man who had come up behind him. “O’Neill,” he said, taking the hand held out to him and shaking it firmly. “Good to see you!” 

“Oh I don’t know if you’ll still feel that way after today’s meeting,” O’Neill replied, and Maynard snorted before leaning forward. 

“Unless you plan on handing this city over on a platter to people who shouldn’t come within a mile of it, much less have control of it, I don’t see how I could _possibly_ be disappointed,” he said in a low voice. 

O’Neill grinned and stepped back. “Then hold on to your hat, sir. This is going to be an interesting ride.” He moved to greet General Carter, and Maynard watched him speculatively. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all? 

 

 

 

Before going in, Atlantis’ command staff had their own meeting to decide just who should go with Sheppard and McKay to face off against the Joint Chiefs of Staff and whoever else was wanting a piece of the Atlantis pie. 

“I’d go, but I’m too hot-headed,” said Ronon from where he was sprawled in his chair. “I know that. You need calm cool heads.” 

“In that case, perhaps Rodney should not go,” quipped Radek dryly, pushing his glasses up his nose. 

“Oh, ha, ha,” said Rodney, though he looked thoughtfully at John, who threw a pencil at him. 

“Don’t even think about it. If I have to go, _you_ have to go,” Sheppard said. “However,” and he sat up, swinging his eyes over everyone at their informal gathering, “I think Teyla should definitely be at the meeting, to represent the interests of the people in Pegasus.” He met her level gaze calmly. “She’s calm, she exudes competence, and she’s got the diplomatic credentials to carry off her arguments. And if they won’t listen, she can whack them with her bantos rods until they do.” 

“John,” she said chidingly when soft laughter made them all relax, though she did smile at him. 

“It’s true,” said Ronon fondly. “They'll listen to you, where they would look at me and see a barbarian.” 

“You _are_ a barbarian, Conan,” said Rodney with a grin. “But we love you anyway.” 

Ronon slapped Rodney’s leg casually, and his eyes twinkled when Rodney grabbed it with a yelp. 

Woolsey cleared his throat. "I agree. Teyla should definitely be there. For one thing, if anyone tries to argue that the peoples of Pegasus are too primitive for us to worry over, her very presence will prove them wrong.” He smiled as she nodded to him, then looked back at his list. “I think we should also include both Dr. Beckett and Dr. Keller…” 

“Ah, no,” said Carson, holding up his hands and shaking them in negation. “No, I’m… I shouldn’t be included, I’m not the real Carson Beckett…” 

“Nonsense!” Rodney sat up, looking affronted. “You _are_ Carson Beckett! Granted, you’re Carson Beckett 2.0, but you’re _still_ Carson Beckett! You have all his memories, you have his DNA… any scientist here will agree!” 

“Yes, but will the Joint Chiefs of Staff?” asked Carson sadly. 

“As they will rapidly find out,” said John grimly, “their opinion, ultimately, is not going to be the one to decide things. You’ll see.” 

“I’ll hold the fort,” said Evan with a nod to his commanding officer, “make sure there are no more incursions against the city. Banks has been picking up a lot of interesting chatter from the Naval base… seems at least three SEAL teams have been recalled, though we’re not sure where they’re being recalled _to_ …” 

“That’s interesting,” John said, sharing a look with Richard. “Rodney, how tight is the shield?” 

“The only thing getting through the shield is _our_ Jumpers,” said Rodney, pulling out his laptop. “Not even the Asgard beaming technology is going to be able to get through. Our little friend upstairs helped to make sure of that.” He looked up. “In fact, after the last Jumper comes through, we’ll be locked up tighter than tight. Same when they leave. Just our Jumpers, and their crews have their orders.” 

“Okay, so… we’re set?” John clapped his hands together, looking at everyone, and there was no mistaking the near glee in his eyes. 

“Don’t worry, Sheppard,” said Ronon, getting up and sharing a quick look with Evan. “We have more than a few surprises set up for anyone who tries to infiltrate the city. Everything’s covered.” 

“Dr. Pei, Dr. Kiang, and Dr. Tsao are in the gym watching movies with some of the Marines,” said Evan with a grin. “Apparently, the good doctors are giving our soldiers their anime education by way of _Gundam_ and _Macross_ and there’s going to be a _Firefly_ marathon if this runs over.” 

Laughing softly, the Atlantis War Council got up and got ready to face their enemies. Today would be a good day to do battle. 

 

 

 

Admiral William T. Crawford was sincerely regretting not having taken his acid reducing medications this morning. Normally, it wasn’t a problem to skip his meds every once in a while, but today? Today, he should have taken them, because his stomach was roiling with frustration, and his aides’ apparent inability to get him the information he wanted wasn’t helping. 

“Look, Admiral,” that irritating scientist, what was his name? McCoy? McKay? Anyway, it was him that was talking, and he wasn’t being very deferential, either, and Crawford _definitely_ wasn’t used to that, either. “Look, Admiral, I know you think every single boat that falls in the water is _your toy_ , but Atlantis isn’t a boat…” 

“Ship,” Crawford corrected for what felt like the fiftieth time. 

city, and it can either float on the surface, be sunk under the surface, or it can fly through space. But it is not now, nor has it ever been, a _ship_. And it does _not_ come under your purview.”

“Every vessel in the water comes under the purview of the Navy, Dr. McKay,” said Crawford with thinly veiled patience. “Maritime law states…” 

“The city of Atlantis does not fall under the maritime laws of any country, Admiral Crawford,” said Mr. Woolsey calmly, and wasn’t that man a thorn as well? “In fact, it is an entirely independent entity, according to the charter set by the I.O.A. _and_ the United Nations Security Council before the Atlantis Expedition ever left Earth.” 

Every member of the Joint Chiefs of Staff froze at that and all eyes were sharply on Woolsey. “Would… would you mind repeating that, Mr. Woolsey?” said Admiral Crawford slowly. 

“Gladly, gentlemen,” said Richard Woolsey, picking up a diplomatic pouch and sliding out the documents contained within. “I have here in my hands the Atlantis Expedition Charter, ratified by the United Nations Security Council and signed by the President of the United States of America, granting the City of Atlantis independent entity status separate and complete from any nation on the planet Earth, and from the United States of America, as represented by Stargate Command. Should she ever make her way to Earth, whether in defense of Earth or to protect Earth, the City of Atlantis would be allowed to stay or go as determined by the members of the Atlantis Expedition’s command team, or governing entity as agreed by ratification of all residents of the City of Atlantis in open quorum.” 

“And… and how did this… document… come to be passed by… by the U. N. and the President?” asked the Army’s Chief of Staff, General Layton. 

O’Neill smiled cheerfully. “Oh, really, General, you have to ask? Every single person who left on that mission was a volunteer, and there was no guarantee they were ever coming back. Provision had to be made for them to handle things on their own if we weren’t able to make contact again.” He spun his pencil between his fingers. “And it would have been really stupid to leave Atlantis open to any country that wanted to take it for… _strategic advantage_.” 

“So as you see, gentlemen,” said Colonel Sheppard, his hands folded neatly on the table as he regarded them all, “none of you have a claim on Atlantis. And none of you get a say in whether or not the city stays here or goes back to Pegasus. That’s for us, her residents, to decide.” 

“And if we decide to withdraw all military personnel from the city?” asked Layton, his eyes narrowed. 

“Then we would have to inform you,” said Teyla serenely,” that the people of the Pegasus galaxy have offered all Atlantean personnel, both civilian and military, asylum. They are welcome to stay with us, and to join our fight to keep the Wraith from returning to this galaxy.” She smiled beatifically at them all. 

Crawford glared at Chairman Maynard, who seemed far too amused by all of this, and shot a look at his allies, both of whom looked like the rug had been snatched out from under them. This was _not_ going as planned. “I vote for a recess,” he said gamely. “Will anyone second me?” 

“I second your vote,” said Layton immediately, and Maynard sighed. 

“We’ll recess for an hour and reconvene here after lunch,” Maynard said. “Though really, Will, you aren’t going to get your way, no matter how long you keep arguing. Just admit the new shiny isn’t yours and put us all out of our misery? I have grandchildren visiting, and I’d like to see them sometime today.” 

No, it _definitely_ wasn’t Admiral Crawford’s day. 


	5. But If You Try Sometimes, You Just Might Find...

Rodney leaned against the window frame, looking out over the water and wondering when the Pacific Ocean became the wrong shade of blue. When had Lantea become home and Earth become the “nice place to visit, but wouldn’t want to live there” place?

Well, no, it wasn’t Lantea that was home, precisely. It was Atlantis and wherever she chose to be that was home. 

He wrinkled his nose. There was no pollution on the planet in Pegasus where Atlantis had floated serenely on the ocean, and he’d forgotten how you could both smell and taste industrial waste in the air on Earth. 

“You’re thinking too hard again.” 

He turned with a smile, lifting his arm so Jennifer could slide under it and lean against him. Her arm went around his waist, and he wrinkled his nose again, but this time it was because her fine hair had lifted in the breeze coming off the sea and tickled his upper lip. Funny how much hair he ate since becoming involved with Jennifer Keller. 

“It’s my hair again, isn’t it?” she asked, looking up at him with mischief dancing in her eyes. 

“Yeah,” he said, finally succumbing to the need to push it away from his face and scratch his nose. 

“Sorry,” she said with an odd smile as she turned to wrap both her arms around him, her chin on his chest. “It’s the humidity and the wind here, it makes my hair all… clingy.” 

“ _Everything_ makes your hair clingy,” said Rodney affectionately as he wrapped his arms around her. “It has a life of its own. I fully expect to wake up one morning completely encased in a cocoon of your hair.” 

Jennifer shuddered delicately. “Ugh, don’t remind me,” she said with a grimace, pulling away from him and Rodney winced, suddenly remembering when she was infected with the Wraith pathogen. 

“Sorry,” he said, wrapping his arms around himself in sudden self-consciousness. Some days, he couldn’t help putting his foot in his mouth and it didn’t take much to throw off their equilibrium. 

She turned to look back at him and sighed, a faint smile curving her lips. “Hey,” she said, reaching out to slide a hand up his arm. “It’s okay.” 

He eyed her doubtfully for a moment, before taking her hand. “You know, just for the record, I think you would have made a totally awesome Wraith Hive.” He grinned when she hit him. “No, really, it would have been the most cheerful, polite group of Wraith in existence! They would have been all, _Sorry, mind if I eat you now?_ and _nice weather, eh?_ ” 

“You are _such_ a _jerk_ , I can’t _believe_ you!” she said, but she was laughing even as she hit him again, and Rodney laughed, holding up his hands to catch hers. “And I’m from _Wisconsin_ , not Canada!” 

“There’s a difference?” And he was dodging her fists again, but she was laughing, and that was what he’d been aiming for, of course. 

Jennifer sighed finally, and looked up at him, a wistful look in her eyes. “You know, Rodney… you’re a really good friend.” 

“Huh… you know, you and John are the only two people I know who’ve ever said that to me,” Rodney said thoughtfully. 

“Well… you are.” She looked up at him and took in a deep breath, then let it out. “I… got a call from my dad today.” 

“Oh?” And Rodney couldn’t help feeling a little nervous about that, because Jennifer was always more likely to start the “marriage/house/children” conversation going again after a call from her dad. “How is he?” 

“Well, I told you he was going to see a specialist, right?” She watched him nod, but what he was really doing was trying to flog his memory into bringing up the conversation. “Well, he got the test results back and…” 

A Marine trotted up. “Dr. McKay, Dr. Keller, they’re re-convening in five minutes. Colonel Sheppard sent me to let you know.” 

“He could have radioed me,” Rodney said irritably as Jennifer moved away from him and pushed her hair back from her face with one hand, the other wiping at her face. 

“Sorry, Dr. McKay, but the Colonel told me to tell you _personally_.” The soldier smiled apologetically, then turned to leave when Rodney flapped his hands at him. 

“We’ll talk later,” said Rodney, kissing her forehead, “and you can tell me all about it.” 

“Yeah,” said Jennifer unhappily as she watched him hurry after the Marine, “I’ll tell you all about it.” 

 

 

 

It was clear, by the demeanor of several of the men sitting around the conference table, that the Atlantis Charter had been read and picked apart during the lunch break, and it was also clear that Crawford and Layton thought they had found a loophole, or a weakness. 

General Maynard opened the meeting, then fixed Crawford and Layton with a jaundiced eye. “I understand the two of you have something to say. But before you do, let me warn you gentlemen not to waste my time. My daughter and her husband have been in Germany for _two years_ , and I only got to see my grandkids _once_ during that time period. They’re only going to be here for three more days. If you don’t wrap this up _today_ , and make me lose any more time with Kenisha and Frankie, I’ll make sure the stewards serve you nothing but the crap coffee you’ve been insisting we buy for enlisted personnel to save money, and I’ll have them cut it with decaf, and you’ll be drinking that swill for the _next six months_ , am I making myself understood here, gentlemen?” 

The only sounds were the audible gulp of someone swallowing, and McKay’s soft, awestruck, “Wow.” 

Clearing his throat, the Vice Chairman lifted his copy of the charter and said, “General Maynard, after consulting with lawyers from the Judge Advocate General’s office, as well as the U.N. Office of Legal Affairs, we think we have found a way out of this.” 

Maynard frowned. “A way out for _whom_ , Admiral Rappaport?” 

Admiral Jarvis Rappaport laid the charter back down on the table with elegant hands, folding them gracefully over the paper before fixing his grey eyes on the assembled. “General Maynard, and honored guests,” he said calmly, “the Atlantis Expedition Charter is very clear in establishing the rights of the City of Atlantis to exist as its own independent entity. And Ms. Emmagen,” and he nodded respectfully to Teyla where she sat watching him warily, “was clear in offering asylum to any military or civilian member of the expedition who wishes to remain with the city, should the… ruling council of the city decide to return to the Pegasus galaxy. However,” and he met the eyes of Colonel Sheppard, Dr. McKay, Mr. Woolsey, and General O’Neill, “we, meaning the United States and any other nations who are part of the I.O.A. charter, are under no obligation to resupply the city of Atlantis either with food, medicines, material, or further personnel, and indeed, it is probably in our best interest to not do so. Further,” he said, clearly trying not to sound smug and failing, “since the SGC is organized under the command of the Department of the Air Force, it would be the responsibility of General Jumper,” and he nodded to the Air Force Chief of Staff,” to withdraw the support of the SGC from Atlantis.” 

General Jumper stared at Rappaport for a long moment, then threw his head back and started laughing. 

Rappaport frowned. “I hardly see anything funny in this, John.” 

“Oh, it’s funny all right,” said Jumper, shaking his head as he met O’Neill’s eyes. “It’s funny that you think I’d actually have the right to _order_ the withdrawal of all SGC support from Atlantis. And it’s clear that you don’t read interdepartmental memos, _Jarvis._ ” He leaned back in his chair. “I’d say this comes under Homeworld Security, wouldn’t you, Jack?” 

Jack smiled enigmatically and touched his radio. “Stargate Command, this is Major General O’Neill of Homeworld Security.” 

“We read you loud and clear, Major General O’Neill,” came Walter’s voice clearly over the speakers. 

“Is everything ready to go?” 

“The gate is dialed to the Alpha site, and operations ready to commence on your say-so, General.” 

“What’s going on?” Crawford asked with a frown. 

“Oh, just an extra measure we took, just in case any of you decided to pull just this particular bone-headed sort of stunt,” said Jack. He wasn’t smiling now. “If you persist in taking this particular path, gentleman, Homeworld Security is prepared to move Stargate Command off Earth _entirely_. We’ll move everything, lock, stock, and barrel, and that includes what’s left at the Antarctic base, and everything at Area 51, and after the last thing has gone through the Stargate, the Daedelus has orders to beam it up, where it will be transported to a new site on another planet. And you won’t have to worry about us using any more of your resources, or taking your personnel, or affecting your status quo.” 

“And since all the best and brightest scientists are in the SGC,” said Dr. McKay, “they’ll be gone, too, and you won’t have to worry about any more efficient alternative energy sources, or solving global warming, or improvements in communication, or any sort of innovation at all. Because it will all be _gone_.” 

“On the other hand,” said Colonel Sheppard, his face grim, “if another big bad space wolf comes knocking at your door, we won’t be here to stop them. Or if the Wraith find another way to get here, you’ll have no way of letting us know. But… _you_ can handle that, right?” 

There was a long, shocked silence. Then Maynard leaned back to summon one of the stewards. “Tylenol. Now.” Then he pointed at Crawford, who was looking somewhat green. “And antacids for him. In fact, just bring him the whole damn bottle.” 

 

 

 

_**… it is the recommendation of the Joint Chiefs of Staff that the International Oversight Advisory cease and desist in its claims on the City of Atlantis. The City of Atlantis is an independent entity and as such, her technology and weapons are not the claim of any one nation on Earth. We would hope that the I.O.A. would remember the debt owed to the City of Atlantis and seek always to maintain good relations with the city and her denizens, and not attempt to hold, coerce, detain, or otherwise cause harm to any of those who live within her environs…**_

 

 

 

“Well, I’d say that turned out well,” said John, swinging his feet above the water as he leaned back on his hand and watched the moon rise out of the ocean. 

Rodney snorted into his beer. “Four days of having to listen to idiots trying to get their greedy mitts on my city, four nights of no sleep and bad dreams when I finally _do_ get to sleep, and you say it turned out _well??_ ” 

“It _did_ turn out well!” John lifted his beer to take a sip, then looked at the bottle. “[ Shiner Ruby Redbird](http://www.shiner.com/main.php?page=beer)? Where’d you get this?” 

“General Jumper,” said Rodney, peeling the label off his bottle idly. “He sent four pallets of cases as an apology for us having to listen to brainless assholes, or something like that.” He took a swig. “It’s not bad.” 

“It’s better than Radek’s moonshine.” 

“I’ll drink to that.” Bottles were clinked and finished off, and two more were fished out of the little cooler behind them. 

“So… we’re going back to Pegasus,” said Rodney, watching the lights of the cars crossing the bridge. 

“Yep,” said Sheppard, laying back on the pier and staring up into the sky. “We get our pick of personnel, too.” 

“That’s good. We’re going to have to screen carefully, you know.” Rodney started peeling the label off the new bottle. “Hey, John…” 

“Yeah?” 

“I… need to ask you something.” 

“Sure, buddy. Shoot.” 

Rodney stared back at the bridge, his fingers fiddling with the label, and John felt a niggle of apprehension. It was never good when Rodney got quiet. “Rodney?” 

“It’s just… I’m thinking of asking Jennifer to marry me,” Rodney blurted, and John fought the urge to roll his eyes, even as an ache twinged in his chest that he immediately ignored. “But… I dunno…” 

“Well… do you love her?” John asked, feeling exasperated. 

“Hey, don’t snap at me,” Even in the moonlight, John could feel the weight of Rodney’s glare. “If it bothers you that much…” 

“I didn’t say that, I just asked if you loved her!” 

“It was implied,” Rodney said haughtily. “You had a tone.” 

“A _tone?_ ” John sat up. “I didn’t have a _tone_ , what do you mean, a _tone_ …” 

“See?? You have it _now!_ ” said Rodney, pointing at him with the hand holding the bottle, and he nearly dropped it into the water. 

John lunged, both their hands closing around the bottle, and they sat there, nearly nose to nose, beer sloshing over both their hands. John looked at their hands on the bottle, then slowly, reluctantly, he looked up at Rodney. Rodney, who was staring at him wide-eyed, his face open and startled, so close John could feel Rodney's nearly panicked breaths against his face. He cleared his throat, then they both sat back, Rodney taking the bottle and setting it on the pier before wiping his hand on his pants leg. John licked at the beer on the back of his hand, then wiped it on his shirt, forcing himself to look out over the water, and not at the man sitting next to him. 

“Look, Rodney,” he said finally, “if you love her and you can’t see yourself without her, then… ask her to marry you. But if you’re doing it because you think you’ll lose her if you don’t, or you don’t want to be lonely, then… maybe you shouldn’t.” 

“Yeah,” said Rodney absently, staring thoughtfully at his hand. “Yeah… thanks.” 

“Don’t mention it,” said John, getting up. “Come on, I think we’ve had enough for tonight.” He held his hand out to Rodney, and after a moment’s hesitation, the scientist took it and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. “Whoa, steady there,” said John, catching him when he wobbled. “You okay?” 

Rodney blinked, then stepped back, brushing at the seat of his pants. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just.. tired.” 

“Yeah,” said John. “Me, too.” He didn’t like the uncertainty in Rodney’s voice, but at least he’d given the man something to think over. “Good night, buddy.” 

Rodney looked up sharply, then the crooked smile curved his mouth. “Yeah. Good night.” 

They walked back into the city, and went off on their separate ways. 


	6. Interlude 1

“You know, Jack, I’m not sure where you’re going with this.” Henry Hayes, President of the United States, leaned back in his chair and regarded the head of Homeworld Security for a long moment. “I mean, I understand striking down D.A.D.T., always thought that was a stupid policy, but… the Defense of Marriage Act?”

Jack O’Neill stared at the president for a long moment, considering his words carefully. “Mr. President,” he said finally. “Wouldn’t you say that the men and women who serve this country have earned the right to love those whom they wish to love?” 

“Well, of course, Jack,” said Hayes with a little frown. “That’s why D.A.D.T. has finally been repealed.” 

“Well… isn’t it kind of pointless to do that if you’re not gonna allow them to get married?” Jack asked with a raised eyebrow. He leaned forward. “Wouldn’t you say, Mr. President, that the men and women who put themselves between Earth and the Wraith deserve the right to know that if they’re killed in action, their loved ones will be protected under the law of the land? That they’ll be recognized as _legal spouses_ by the federal government, and thus entitled to survivor’s benefits? That the children they have raised between them will be protected and won’t be taken away from their surviving parent, the only parent they’ve ever known?” 

The President sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Jack… you know I agree with you on this. But it’s up to the Supreme Court now. And there’s nothing I can do, you know that.” 

“Well, you know, I did have to try,” said Jack, a little too casually as he got up from his chair. “Of course, you know, Atlantis being an independent entity from Earth, it can do whatever it wants where marriage equality is concerned, and… we’d have no say in it, really.” He picked up his cap and twirled it casually between his hands. “Just… seems to me that… any of the people living and serving on Atlantis from the U.S. might feel no particular loyalty to a country that won’t grant them full rights…” 

Hayes frowned. 

“Oh, they’ll _keep_ fighting and protecting us, don’t get me wrong,” said Jack, looking down at the cap in his hands, tracing the insignia on the front of it. “But… they might want their spouses to come live with them on the city, to keep them safe. From us. You know?” 

“I see,” Hayes said slowly. 

“And if they did that, they probably wouldn’t want to come back,” Jack said, meeting Hayes’ eyes evenly. “Because their marriages wouldn’t be recognized as legal. Considering that a lot of them are very talented scientists and engineers, as well as soldiers… you might want to consider what a loss of intellectual talent that would be. Or, if they _did_ come back, they might want to go to Canada, or the U.K. where their marriage would be legal.” 

President Hayes considered Jack O’Neill’s expression, and sighed inwardly. “You make a compelling argument,” he said finally and stood. “I’ll do my best, Jack.” He held out his hand. 

Jack took it and gave it a firm shake. “I know you will, sir. Have a good afternoon.” He saluted, then left. 

Henry Hayes watched the door close behind the tall figure, then turned to stare out the window of the Oval Office, grimacing. Finally, he turned and pressed a button on his desk. 

The door opened as his secretary came in. “Yes, Mr. President?” 

“Mrs. Williams, I need you to make some phone calls, and you might also see about getting some sandwiches sent up. It’s going to be a long afternoon…” 

 

 

 

John found Rodney and Radek Zelenka in the lab, arguing companionably as they sorted through a pile of folders. There was a list of names up on the whiteboard, and four boxes on the floor that John was amused to see were labeled, “Yes,” “Maybe,” “Hell No,” and “Too Stupid to Live.” 

“So, what do you say about Dr. Zuckerman?” asked Radek, peering into an open folder as Rodney pondered the whiteboard, eraser in hand. 

“Zuckerman? Are you _kidding?_ ” Rodney turned to grab the folder out of Radek’s hand and rapidly paged through it until he found what he wanted, then shoved it back at the engineer. 

Radek adjusted his glasses and read, then looked up at Rodney. “I see what you mean.” He tossed the folder into the “Too Stupid to Live,” box. He picked up another. “What about… Fleinhardt?” 

“Eats nothing but white food,” said Rodney as he frowned into another folder. “Still, he’s brilliant, and made some really astonishing leaps, but I already asked him and he said he was… now… how did he put it?” He looked up, his eyes narrowing as he searched his memory. “Oh, right… he wasn’t interested in leaving his _terrestrial abode for another trek beyond the limits of our known galaxy_.” He shrugged. “Man’s crazy, if you ask me. I mean, what astrophysicist _doesn’t_ want to go into _space??_ ” 

“He’s already been,” said Radek, spotting John and smiling at him. “Maybe he doesn’t feel need to go again.” 

“Shopping for scientists,” said John, coming toward their workstation with his hands in his pockets. “Sounds like all kinds of fun in here.” 

“Oh, ha, ha.” Rodney tossed the folder he’d been perusing into the “maybe” box. “Put Dr. Elizabeth Parsons on the possibles list. She lists martial arts as a hobby, and if she’s willing to go through the training course John and Major Lorne have come up with, she’ll get bumped up to the Yes list. 

Radek got up to add her name to the list on the whiteboard, which John saw were names divided into sections of who already had weapons training but needed hand to hand, who already had hand to hand skills but needed weapons training, all cross referenced with those who would need physical conditioning as well. 

“Wow,” said John, studying the way it was organized. “That’s… impressive. What’s this section here… wait,” he said, spotting a familiar name, “isn’t he already on this mission?” 

Rodney looked up from yet another folder, and snorted. “That section is for people who are already on this mission, but have yet to qualify on weapons, or refuse to work on their physical conditioning, even though they know how necessary it is.” He smirked at John. “We’re working on incentives.” 

“Like, if they don’t do it, they don’t go?” John had a few problems with that. 

“No, because they’ve already proven themselves for the most part,” said Rodney, going back to his reading. “They just won’t get to leave the city. At all. Not even for recreational purposes.” 

“Teyla is working on a way to persuade them,” said Radek with a little smile. “You know Teyla.” 

“Yes, I know Teyla,” said John with a grin, not worried any more. 

“So, Colonel, ” said Rodney, tossing the folder he was looking at into the “Hell No” box, “what brings you here?” 

John snorted, not fooled by the sudden use of his rank. “Lunch was an hour ago, and they’re about to stop serving. You both need to eat, so… come on.” 

“It’s fine, we’ve got power bars,” said Rodney absently, already nose-deep in a folder. 

“They got a new shipment of chocolate pudding cups this morning…” John said, turning to leave, and he grinned to himself when Rodney’s head came up. 

“Pudding cups?” 

“ _Chocolate_ pudding cups,” said John, sauntering out the door. 


	7. Falling Apart...

It was a busy time for everyone on the city. Between vetting new personnel and acquainting them with the city’s systems, clearing and releasing the few residents who wanted to remain on Earth, replacing old equipment and repairing damage, there was barely time to do what needed to be done _and_ manage time to eat and sleep. Sometimes, the eating was done standing up, sandwich in one hand, soldering iron in the other. And the sleeping was done five minutes at a time face down on a keyboard, or thirty stolen minutes curled up behind a pallet of supplies. Everyone, from the head of the expedition all the way down to the rating who ran the Ancient version of a dishwasher in the mess hall kitchen, had a full load of things that had to be accomplished before the city left Earth, and everyone was pushed for time. Everyone was busy.

At least, that’s what Rodney told himself as he staggered to his quarters for an ordered six hours of sleep. He’d probably only take three, but he wasn’t insane (or exhausted) enough to actually say that to Carson. And that made him hesitate for a moment, because it had been Carson ordering him off to bed for sleep. Not Jennifer. Odd that he’d seen Carson more in the last five days than he had Jennifer. His _girlfriend_. 

That made him frown before he forced himself to start moving again. He couldn’t sleep in the hallway, there were no beds in the hallway, and it would wreck his back if he tried to sleep on the floor. 

His door loomed ahead and in a moment, he realized Sheppard was leaning against the wall next to it, something in his hands. Rodney would have frowned, had he had the energy. As it was, he barely managed a coherent, “John? What’re you doin’ here? ” 

John snorted, pushing away from the wall, and the mysterious something in his hands was revealed to be a tray. “Figured you wouldn’t hae stopped to eat, so I brought you some food. Chicken-for-real… mashed potatoes… chocolate cake…” 

“Chocolate cake?” That got Rodney’s wandering attention, and John’s eyes danced with amusement. 

“I just said so, didn’t I?” He nudged Rodney with his shoulder and steered him toward the door. “Come on.” 

“Mmm-kay,” Rodney mumbled and allowed himself to be steered through the door of his quarters and to his desk. “Hey…” 

“Sit on your bed, and you’ll go to sleep,” John said sternly. “If you sit at your desk, I know you’ll eat.” 

“Whatever,” said Rodney automatically, not really caring, and he took the fork that was pushed into his hand. While he ate, John kept up a steady stream of light, uncomplicated chatter that managed to let Rodney know what had been going on in the city since they last saw each other several hours earlier. 

That made Rodney pause a moment. He had seen John two hours earlier when he’d run into the man outside his lab. And an hour before that, John had brought him a couple of power bars and a bottle of water. And before that, he’d run interference with one of the more officious supply sergeants for Rodney…. 

Rodney had seen a lot more of John over the last five days than he had his own girlfriend. In fact, he could hardly turn around without falling over the man, but surely John had his own work to do? Of course, he did. Rodney had seen him only that morning taking a new group of Marines through their paces. And at one point in the afternoon, Rodney had passed through the gateroom on his way to replacing the crystals in two of the command center's consoles and seen John with Major Lorne, briefing a group of SF’s on gateroom safety protocols. 

He couldn’t say how many times he’d run across John doing any number of the myriad tasks expected of a commanding officer, and even more than a few of the ones not expected of them, and thought to himself that John was just as busy as Rodney himself. And yet, John still found time to seek Rodney out, no matter where he was, and prod him out to eat, to sleep, to take a break, or to just take the pressure off with a few minutes of teasing, joking, and just general pestering. 

But not Jennifer. The doctor. Jennifer, who fussed at him about his salt intake, or his sweet tooth and his love affair with chocolate, or to exercise more and not spend such long hours in the lab. She’d _fuss_ , but not actually _do_ anything. And he’d hardly seen her for more than a total of seven minutes over the last five days. 

“Huh,” he said softly, fork poised in the air as several random facts began to circle around in his brain in preparation for a conclusion. 

“What’s the frown for?” John looked up from his own plate and watched him with keen eyes. 

Rodney focused on the Colonel for a long moment. “John,” he said slowly, “how busy have you been?” 

John snorted and stabbed a piece of the chicken with his fork. “Are you kidding? I’ve hardly had a moment to call my own.” He chewed his chicken grimly. “I had to run away from Lorne this afternoon so I could get five minutes alone just to take a goddamned _leak!_ ” 

Rodney couldn’t help a laugh that sounded awfully close to a giggle, and excused it to himself as the result of fatigue. “Your life is so hard,” he said with a grin. 

“Watch it or I’ll keep all the chocolate cake for myself,” John said with mock irritation. 

Rodney just grinned at him and went back to the food. But it continued to bother him. 

“Okay, I know that look,” said John, pushing the plate with Rodney’s share of the cake closer to him. “What’s going on in that big brain of yours, buddy?” 

Rodney shook his head as he accepted the cake. “Would you say Carson’s been as busy as you?” 

“Busier,” said John, pulling his own piece of cake close and digging in with enthusiasm. “What with integrating the new systems, interviewing new personnel, training them, _and_ getting all the new people through their physicals and baseline scans, it’s a wonder he doesn’t meet himself coming and going.” 

“Huh,” said Rodney, almost absently as the thoughts circled, getting closer and closer to that conclusion, and he didn’t like it one bit. “And yet, he manages to see me at least once a day to fuss at me or at least look at me…” 

“Well, sure,” said John, looking up at Rodney with a little frown. “You’re friends, he worries about you, and he knows you won’t stop working until you literally fall over. He’s probably thinking of it as preventative maintenance.” 

Rodney snorted, and took a larger bite of his cake than he normally would have, chewing it morosely as the Conclusion loomed in his brain in all its depressing glory. “Probably,” he said when his mouth was reasonably clear. 

John watched him for a long moment, then sighed and set down his fork. “This is about Keller, isn’t it?” 

Rodney turned to stare at his best friend and frowned at a sudden realization. “You don’t like her, do you?” 

“Huh?” The shock and astonishment in John’s eyes almost made Rodney laugh, and he shook his head at John’s bewilderment. “What the hell, McKay?” 

“See?” said Rodney, pointing at him with his fork. “You only call me McKay when you’re irritated with me, or you’re being formal. Otherwise, you call me Rodney.” 

“Ooookaaaay,” said John slowly, looking completely lost. “And this is important because…?” 

Rodney set down his fork and folded his hands to stare at John for a long moment. “You have never, in all the time that I’ve known you, called Jennifer anything but ‘Keller,’ except when she was around Ronon. The only other people you call by their last names on a regular basis are the men under your command. And even then, you call Major Lorne by his first name when you’re both off duty.” He shook his head. “Jennifer isn’t under your command, but you’ve called her Keller pretty much since the day she and I started officially dating. Therefore, you don’t like her.” 

Lips pressed tightly together with exasperation, John stared at him, then threw up his hands. “Okay, fine, but you know, it doesn’t matter if I like her or not, Rodney! _I’m_ not the one dating her! _You_ are!” 

“Of _course_ , it matters if you like her or not!” Rodney blurted. “My God, John, what, you think I’ll marry her and forget about you entirely??? Are you _nuts??_ You’re my _best friend_ , John! What kind of hell do you think my life would be if my best friend and my girlfriend _can’t stand each other???_ ” 

“Somehow, I think we’ve gotten a little off track here,” said John dubiously. He shook himself. “Look… we’re both too tired to have a rational discussion like this, and I don’t think it would do either of us any good to keep going, you know? Besides, this is getting awful close to… you know… _feelings_ , and I…” 

“Has Jennifer been really busy, too?” Rodney asked suddenly, unable to stop himself, because those random circling thoughts forced it from his brain and out of his mouth. 

“Uh…” John was clearly caught off guard by Rodney's apparent foray into a verbal left field. 

“Because I’ve hardly seen her, and it’s not like I haven’t tried,” he continued, feeling like a helpless observer as the random thoughts took over his speech centers entirely and just ran with it. 

John was edging his way back from the desk and moving toward the door. “I’m just going to let you get some rest…” he was saying, but Rodney and his Circling Thoughts of Doom weren’t having it. 

“John, I need to know!” 

John stared at him for a long miserable moment, and sighed. “Yeah, she’s been busy,” said John finally. “I’m not sure what with, but it takes her out of the city at least once a day, sometimes twice. She calls for a Jumper and Woolsey’s been clearing her to go…” 

“Where has she been going?” asked Rodney tightly. Then he frowned at the look on John’s face. “I know you know, John. You might as well tell me, or I’ll just hack into the database and find out myself.” 

John sighed and rubbed his face before sitting back down. “Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin… and Minneapolis. I haven’t been told why, only that she wants to keep it private.” He watched Rodney for a long moment, then reached out to grip his shoulder. “Look, buddy, you’re running on fumes. Just… sleep, okay? Get some sleep and worry about it later.” 

“Yeah,” said Rodney slowly, and he forced himself to give John a half-hearted smile while trying to shove the Circling Thoughts away. “Yeah… you, too.” 

He sat staring at the remains of the chocolate cake on his plate long after John left. 

 

 

 

The call he’d been expecting ever since those Circling Thoughts had pounced on the Conclusion came after he’d gotten an unexpected ten hours of uninterrupted sleep, and had been in the lab for two trying to figure out the new systems coming online. And, of course, it was at the worst possible moment of those two hours. 

“Rodney. we need to talk.” 

“Jennifer, I’m a little busy right now,” he said as he raced to shut down systems in front of a power surge that threatened to fry the power relays of the entire west section of the city. “No!” he shouted to Radek as the engineer worked frantically over the console. “Shut them _all_ down before we brownout the city!” 

“I’ll call you back later,” Jennifer said, and the connection cut abruptly. 

Rodney shook it off and kept working, shouting instructions to his minions as they worked and resolving to never, ever, ever let Williams and Adamson near the research for ZPMs ever again. Stupid newbies… 

It was some time before he had enough breathing room to remember Jennifer had called him and wanted to talk, and this only after he’d taken time to eat and get his blood sugar back up. Grimacing, he clicked his radio for the private channel he’d set aside for them and called her. 

And there was no answer. 

“Jennifer, _come on_ , it was a genuine emergency,” he said, trying, and probably not entirely succeeding, to keep the irritation out of his voice. “Jennifer?” 

Trying several more times, he finally gave up and called Carson. 

“Beckett here.” 

“Finally,” he said gustily and ignored the snort he heard in his ear. “Look, is Jennifer too busy to answer her radio right now?” 

“Jennifer? Rodney, didn’t yeh know?” Carson sounded genuinely puzzled. 

“Know what?” 

“Ah, and she was supposed to tell yeh,” Carson babbled and Rodney frowned. Carson babbling was never a good sign. “Well, it’s her story to tell, and I won’t take it on, but I _will_ say she’s at the hospital in St. Paul today with her father. And she should be back before dinner.” 

“I… see,” said Rodney slowly. “Okay… I’ll… call her then.” 

“Good idea, Rodney,” said Carson much more cheerfully. “Now, if yeh dinna mind, I have a wee bit of a scalp wound to stitch up for Corporal McIverson, so I’ll leave yeh to it, then?” 

“Yeah, sure, McKay out,” Rodney said, and glared out the window. This was just too much. 

After that, it seemed they kept just missing each other. Rodney would try to contact Jennifer, and she’d either have already left for the mainland, or she’d be in the middle of a medical emergency and unable to talk. Jennifer would call Rodney, and he’d either be in the middle of an important meeting or frantically trying to keep one or more of his minions from blowing themselves up, the city up, or heaven help them all, the entire planet. And it was, quite frankly, starting to affect his work. Jennifer, not his minions. 

 

 

 

Richard Woolsey watched the missed connection dance between Atlantis’ chief of science, and the former chief medical officer with amused tolerance for three days, after which it ceased to be amusing. Actually, it ceased being amusing after the first day, but Richard had pretended patience, certain that two such intelligent people who happened to be certified geniuses could navigate the hazards of romantic entanglement on their own. However, it appeared he had been far too optimistic in his opinion, and after day three of watching Dr. Keller return grim-faced from her trip to Wisconsin and watching Dr. McKay blow up at the Air Force engineer sent to help him with the power relays for, of all things, _breathing too loud_ , Richard decided to take matters into his own hands. 

And because he was not actively suicidal, he tackled Dr. Keller first. 

He found her in the out of the way little alcove she had claimed for her work, far from the busy chaos of the chief medical officer’s official office, bent over a folder of medical reports that most likely didn’t belong to any of her patients. 

He cleared his throat gently and she looked up with wide, startled eyes. “Oh, Mr. Woolsey!” she said, closing the folder hastily and pushing back her hair. “I didn’t see you there!” 

“I know, Dr. Keller,” he said gently. “I was wondering if I might have a word with you?” 

“Well… sure, but I need to start my rounds in a few minutes, so…” she said cautiously as she picked up her stethoscope and looped it over the back of her neck. 

“Hopefully, this won’t take too long,” said Richard, and he took a few minutes to study her face as she busied herself with getting her things together. 

She looked tired and worn, new tiny lines appearing around her eyes and mouth that even time in Pegasus hadn’t managed to etch in her young face. Mostly, though, Richard had the impression of grief held at bay, and knowing what he did of the ordeal she would soon be facing, he wasn’t surprised. “How is your father?” he asked finally, keeping his voice compassionate and kind. 

He thought for a moment her face was going to crumple, but the years in Pegasus had strengthened Jennifer Keller and, at the very least, had taught her how to bury her emotions and keep them out of her face, for the most part. So she took a deep breath and while she didn’t smile, she didn’t cry, either. “Oh, about as well as can be expected, considering,” she said calmly. “I found a really good oncologist in St. Paul who specializes in his particular cancer, though Dr. Phillips is suggesting we try M.D. Anderson in Houston…” 

“You know the SGC will help pay the costs if it comes to that,” Richard said, and she smiled and nodded. 

“Yes, thank you, sir,” Keller said and sighed. “Dr. Phillips… isn’t sure how long he’ll have. It’s… a really aggressive cancer…” 

Richard touched her shoulder gently. “I don’t know if I ever told you. My mother had breast cancer, and… I watched her go through chemo and radiation twice. She had a double mastectomy, and for three years, we thought she was clear, everything would be fine.” He sighed, remembering how happy they’d all been, believing she had beaten it. “But, she’d gone for her third year checkup, and they found spots in her lung. And the next thing we knew, she was dying. Of course,” he said, going to the window that looked out over the city, “some good did come out of it.” 

Dr. Keller frowned. “How… I don’t mean any disrespect, Mr. Woolsey, but… how could some good come out of your mother dying?” 

Richard smiled grimly, thinking how very young she still was, and he sighed, putting a much more sympathetic smile on his face before he turned back to her. “When my younger brother felt a small lump on his chest while taking a shower, instead of listening to his wife and ignoring it, he made an appointment with our mother’s oncologist that day. And by the next morning, he was having a malignant tumor removed from his right breast. That was ten years ago.” 

Keller blinked. “That’s… stunning.” 

“Yes, it is.” Richard moved back to her desk. “My brother is still alive and no longer married to his first wife. It seems she couldn’t forgive him for ignoring her wishes, and was disgusted by what she called his mutilation from an unnecessary surgery.” He waited for her shock to pass, then straightened his jacket. “I digress, however. I merely wished to assure you that I do understand what you’re going through. However, I _do_ have another purpose in coming to see you, Dr. Keller.” 

“Oh?” She frowned slightly, then her face cleared as she reached entirely the wrong conclusion. “ _Oh_ , Mr. Woolsey… did you find a lump?” 

He hastened to cut her off. “No, no, nothing like that, and I already had my monthly check with Dr. Beckett.” He sighed and decided to skip being tactful, because there was a time for diplomacy and tact, and a time to just lay it all on the line. And apparently, now it was line time. “I came to discuss the situation between yourself and Dr. McKay.” 

Keller really did blush most prettily, Richard thought idly as he watched her, and if he were so inclined toward blonde, pretty, and doll-like, he might have been interested. He’d learned his lessons long ago on that front, however, and was able to watch her with a distant sort of appreciation while she verbally flailed for a moment before recovering. 

“Well… uh… really, Mr. Woolsey, I… I really don’t see what business it is of yours…” she began and he raised an eyebrow, watching her snap her mouth shut as her blush deepened. 

“It’s my business when it affects the efficiency of this city, Dr. Keller,” Richard said calmly. “And whatever is going on, or _not_ going on, between you and Dr. McKay is affecting the efficiency of this city. More specifically, it’s affecting the efficiency of Dr. McKay. I’m not sure how long exactly you plan to continue your plan of avoiding conversing with Dr. McKay, but I must point out to you that it is a poorly thought out plan. If it is, indeed, a plan.” He watched her blink in astonishment, then open her mouth to reply, shut it, then glare at him. 

“I’m not… _avoiding_ him. Exactly,” Keller said, her hands moving in front of her before she shoved them into her pockets. “I’ve been busy, you’ve seen that, and… so has he!” 

“Yes, he has, but he has _made_ time to try to contact you, and I have verified with city records that you have been… not busy… and unoccupied during some of those times.” He tilted his head as he regarded her. “Dr. Keller, the mature human being, in the words of some of the Marines, puts on her big girl panties and deals with it.” It was entirely worth a little crudeness just to see how big her eyes could get. 

“Mr. Woolsey!!” she said, shocked. 

“Dr. Keller, _talk_ to the man. Get whatever it is out of your system and get it _over_ with,” Richard said abruptly, feeling exhausted by the exchange. “Either ask the man to marry you, or dump him. But don’t leave him hanging in agony and threatening a hapless Air Force grunt with defenestration, especially since the poor man had no idea what that word even meant!” 

He turned abruptly on his heel and left before the unseemly urge to strangle her got out of hand. He headed straight for one of the larger balconies and deep draughts of San Francisco fog. At least that, he could understand. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who want to know, "defenestration" is the act of throwing someone or something out a window.


	8. There's More Room In a Broken Heart...

He buried his face in her hair, his arm around her slender body, holding her close against him. She was warm and soft and pliant in his arms, and he hummed happily as he nuzzled into her hair, until she suddenly giggled sleepily and turned to face him, kissing the tip of his nose. “Rodney,” she said softly, “I had a long, hard day in the infirmary, three surgeries… I’m really tired…”

“I know,” he said, pulling her closer so that her breasts were pressing against him. “I just want to hold you, Jen, just cuddle you and know you’re here.” 

She smiled and shook her head, reaching up to run a finger down his nose. “And that’s the problem, Rodney. You never demand sex from me. I find it a real turn off, you know?” 

“What?” he said, taken aback, and he pulled back to stare at her. “What the hell, Jennifer?” 

“Be a man, Rodney!” Jennifer said, getting in his face. “Maybe if you’d been a little more aggressive and stopped being such a… passive, sensitive… _geek_ , I wouldn’t be running away from you!” 

 

 

 

Rodney sat up with a jerk, his heart racing. He reached up to rub a hand over his pounding heart, aware of sweat trickling down his back and sides, beading his face, and making him feel clammy. “What… the hell?” he muttered and turned to look at his clock. “Ah… four a.m…. great. I’ve only had two hours of sleep…” 

He got up and walked to the window, pulling back the curtains and looking out, frowning when he felt something was missing. 

Oh, wait… there was only one moon, and no stars, thanks to the lights of the city across the water… he was on Atlantis, and Atlantis was on Earth. 

He turned away from the window, finding no comfort there, and padded to the bathroom, turning on the tap getting himself a glass of water. The lights had come up low and soft when he’d entered the bathroom, and he studied his face in the mirror for a long moment. “You’re a balding old guy, and she’s a hot young doctor, and it was never going to work, McKay, admit it,” he said bitterly. “You’re too smart for her, and she’s just… too nice. Too… pink and sugary and… _young_.” He shook his head and glared at himself. “You don’t want Jennifer Keller. You want someone you can talk to that gets your references, not someone you have to explain everything to, and thinks everything you like is… quaint.” It was a bitter truth, and he didn’t have to like it, because face it, the sex was… not enough. He sighed, rubbing his face, and he set the glass down, wishing like hell John was here. 

That made him look sharply up at himself, eyes wide as several realizations shocked through him. 

He didn’t want Jennifer. 

He wasn’t as young as he’d thought he was. 

And the first person he thought of, the first person he wanted to have here, _right now_ , to be here and … get him, _really_ get him, because he always did… was _John_. 

Rodney McKay stood up straight and frowned at the face looking back at him. “Aren’t you a little old for life-changing epiphanies?” he asked himself grumpily before turning to stagger back to bed. 

He absolutely _refused_ to even think about it until he’d had at least four more hours of sleep. 

 

 

 

“Lorne to Sheppard.” 

John frowned and touched his radio. “This is Sheppard, go ahead, Major.” 

“Uh, sir? You might want to come down to the Jumper bay,” Lorne said, and John could hear shouts and ranting in the background. It sounded like McKay… except McKay was supposed to be in the lab at the moment, not the Jumper bay. 

“Is that…?” 

“Yes, sir,” said Lorne, and John could _hear_ the wince in the otherwise unflappable man’s voice. “You might want to … hurry.” 

“I’ll be there in five, Sheppard out.” And he bowed to Teyla, gesturing for the Marines she was going to be working with to take their places. “You listen to her, and respect her, and maybe you’ll survive your first time through the gate in Pegasus.” And with that he left. 

It didn’t take him long, as he neared the Jumper bay, to hear the shouting and realize what was happening. He saw Lorne standing by the door and came up slowly. “Broccoli?” he asked quietly. 

“I’m afraid so, sir,” Lorne said mournfully, and they both peered in to take in the sight of the unfortunate Air Force lieutenant cowering against the side of the Jumper, McKay in a full fledged temper tantrum flaying verbal strips from the man. 

“What did he do?” asked John, wincing when he heard McKay shout, “Did you get your engineering degree from a Cracker Jack box, Barclay? Because seriously, this is Engineering 101 stuff, not… not… _rocket science!!!_ And I should know because I’m a _fucking rocket scientist!!_ ” 

“I’m not sure,” said Lorne, stepping back hastily from the door. “I just know it went from minor irritation to epic proportions in ten seconds flat.” 

John watched McKay loom over Barclay, drawing in a deep breath for another verbal volley, and figured it was time to rescue his soldier. So he strolled out, hands in his pockets, and looked from the red-faced scientist to the pale engineer and forced a cheerful smile on his face. “Hey, McKay… whatcha up to, buddy?” 

McKay’s eyes widened in disbelief and his mouth fell open before he recovered and shouted, “Do you have any idea what this idiot has done?” 

John looked over the Jumper and didn’t see anything obviously out of place. He looked at Barclay and only saw a chip in one hand, and the other still held up in placation. He hummed a moment, then looked back at Rodney with slightly pursed lips before saying casually, “Did he finally put in that cool stereo system I’ve been asking for? Because being able to hook my iPod up and listen to the Man in Black on some of those long trips would be rad.” 

“Seriously, do you have brain damage?” McKay asked, standing up straight as he stared at John. “Because your mouth is moving, but you’re not making any sense.” 

“If Dr. McKay would just _listen_ , I would have explained that…” 

“Who gave you permission to talk, Broccoli?” McKay snapped irritably and when Barclay opened his mouth to protest, a finger was pointed imperiously at his face. “Seriously. Shut. Up.” He looked back at John. “He’s disabled the entire propulsion system! He’s not _cleared_ to work with the propulsion system, because neither Radek nor myself have gone over the propulsion system with him. And yet when I get here, what do I find? He’s _working on the propulsion system!!!_ ” 

“I’m not working on the propulsion system, I pulled a crystal because the Jumper was hovering by itself and there was no one on it, and there was smoke coming out of the left engine, and all I could think of to do was to pull the control chip and hope it shut it down!!” Barclay bellowed suddenly. “If you’d bothered to let me explain instead of jumping all over me the moment you saw me, I would have told you that and by the way, this thing is still humming and _do you smell something burning???_ ” 

All three men turned to look at the Jumper, Rodney muttered, “Oh, crap,” and leaped into the cargo hold, yanking open panels while John jumped into the pilot seat and thought _down_ and _off_ at it. 

Ten harried minutes later, still wiping sooty smudges off their faces, John, Rodney, and Lt. Barclay stood looking in disbelief at the scorched remains of the Pegasus version of _Rattus rattus_ , except bigger and with large scalpel-like claws on the hind feet. 

“How the hell did that get in the starboard side engine pod?” said John with a frown. 

“It’s a rat,” Rodney said. “How do they get anywhere?” 

“Ancient equipment usually repels vermin, doesn’t it?” asked Barclay, his nose wrinkled up with disgust. 

“Normally,” said Rodney with a grimace. He met Barclay’s eyes. “I… apologize for … shouting at you. And jumping to conclusions. It was a good call, and a miraculous one, considering you’ve never worked on these systems before.” 

“Well, Dr. McKay, I _did_ take the time to read the manuals and specs you sent me before I rotated here,” Barclay said, ducking his head. “Just… don’t call me Broccoli again. It was bad enough I got it in high school, it would suck if my boss did it, too.” 

Rodney stared at him for a long moment, then said, “Well… just don’t get addicted to holo-deck programs and we’ll be fine.” 

Barclay grinned. “Well, since my name’s Gerald, not Reginald, I’d say that’s a safe bet. Plus, there’s no holo-deck on Atlantis… right?” 

“Not exactly,” said John. “Come on, let’s leave this… thing… for the zoologists and let Radek fuss over this Jumper before he has a fit. Carson’s burning up my ear with demands for us to report to the infirmary.” 

Herding the two geeks out of the bay, he shot a look at Lorne, who was directing cleanup, and was thankful to have avoided a full McKay Meltdown. 

 

 

 

“Hey, Rodney.” 

Rodney nearly jumped out of his skin at the soft voice. He turned and saw Jennifer leaning against the door to his lab. “Hey,” he said, getting up and wiping his hands on a tack cloth that was on the table. “What are you doing up at this hour?” 

Jennifer shook her head and came toward him. “I just got off shift. I don’t have to ask why you’re up so late, do I?” She looked at the propulsion unit he’d been working on, then back at him. “I heard about the Jumper this morning.” 

“Yeah, it was pretty exciting. And gross.” He shuddered. “Flash-fried rat.” 

“Urgh,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “You say the nicest things.” 

“I do, don’t I?” he said, taking her hand and pulling her down to sit in a lab chair. “So… how are you?” 

Jennifer studied him for a long time, then said, “I’m sorry, Rodney.” 

“For what?” 

She blushed, then looked down at their joined hands, running a thumb over his for a moment before she looked back up at him. “For not trying harder to talk to you. For not telling you what’s going on. For… being a jerk.” 

Rodney absorbed that. She must have been doing a lot of hard thinking. Jennifer was just as capable of self-deception as the next person, but one of the things he admired about her was her ability to take the truth when it was handed to her, accept it, and move on. Someone must have given her a good mental shakedown for her to be this blunt. So he nodded, then said, “Okay… I… accept your apology, on the condition you tell me what the hell is going on.” 

“Fair enough,” she said with a small smile. “Okay… my dad has been diagnosed with late stage lung cancer, and… I’ve been taking him to several specialists, hoping we could find someone…” Her eyes filled with tears and she looked down again before laughing bitterly. “Okay, I admit it, I was looking for an oncologist who would tell me what I wanted to hear, but… it’s late stage, so really… there’s no hope.” 

“Jen… I’m so sorry,” Rodney said, taking her hands into his and pulling her close to hold her. 

“I… I can’t do anything for him, Rodney, except… make him comfortable,” she said with a small sob. “I’m a doctor, and… even with all the Ancient equipment here… it can’t do anything more for him than… than…” She held onto him desperately and he held her through it, knowing the bitterness that comes with the joy of knowledge. “He’s my _dad_ , and I’m not ready to lose him yet.” 

Rodney leaned over to grab the ever present box of tissues at Kusanagi’s station and handed it to Jennifer, who took it with a little laugh. She pulled a couple out to wipe her face and blow her nose, then sat up, and he marveled again at how she looked twelve years old when she was like this. “So…what are you going to do?” 

She sighed. “I’m… going to stay here, on Earth, Rodney. He needs me, and… I need to be with him.” She shrugged. “I’ll still be with the SGC, but… strictly research.” 

“I see,” said Rodney. “This was why you couldn’t bring yourself to talk to me, isn’t it?” 

“You love Atlantis,” Jennifer said, leaning forward as she perched in the chair, her elbows on her knees. “You love being here, and you love working with the people here. I… can’t see you anywhere else.” She shook her head. “I’ve been really selfish, Rodney. But… watching my dad struggling every day, and listening to him talk about what he regrets… it… kind of makes you look at things differently. I… was going to ask you to marry me, Rodney, to… to stay here, but, God, Rodney, I can’t. I can’t take you away from Atlantis… and I can’t stay.” 

It hurt. He would never pretend otherwise. “You’re right, I can’t leave.” He reached up to take a lock of her hair between his fingers and tugged it gently. “Maybe six weeks ago, if you had asked me, I would have been torn, and I might have tried it, but now?” 

“I know,” Jennifer said softly. She leaned forward, wrapping her hands around his wrist as he held her hair. “Rodney McKay, you are my very best friend, you know that? My _very_ best, because… because you have a big brain… but you have an even bigger heart, and I am so sorry it took me so long to see that.” 

Rodney laughed ruefully. “This is the weirdest breakup I’ve ever had. Normally, I get screamed at, told what an insensitive jerk I am, and have things thrown at me.” 

“Not a chance,” Jennifer said. “I’ve had to do a lot of hard thinking over the last few days. I don’t regret one moment that I’ve spent with you, Rodney, but… I think we make better friends than we do lovers.” 

“I dunno,” said Rodney with a little frown. “I don’t know if you’re geeky enough to be my friend. I mean, you almost can’t tell Star Trek from Star Wars…” 

“Rodney!” she said, slapping his shoulder. 

“And there’s all this _hitting_ ,” he complained, holding up his hands. “Being your friend is _painful_. At least when you were my girlfriend, I got _sex_ out of it!” 

Jennifer snorted. “Is this where I’m supposed to throw things at you and tell you what an insensitive jerk you are?” 

“Wrong order,” he said, suddenly feeling as if a ten ton weight had been lifted from his heart. “Jerk first, then throw things.” 

“Oh, well… wouldn’t want to get it wrong,” she said, laughing, then she tugged him to his feet. “Come on, time for all good doctors, both medical and scientific… whatever… to go to bed. Their _own_ beds!” she added sternly at his suddenly hopeful look. 

He saved his work, turned off lights, and allowed himself to be tugged out of the lab. He could mourn the loss of a relationship he’d very much enjoyed, but in light of the new one he was gaining, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. 


	9. Blunt Words and New Arrivals...

 

His feet pounded out a steady rhythm down the corridor, aware of the man that ran beside him as they took one of the more challenging routes that would eventually take them up and down a series of stairs and catwalks, challenging him and taking him out of himself for a while. 

“You ready to talk about it?” Ronon’s voice was a rumble in his ear, and John wished he could ignore it, but the Satedan wasn’t easily put off. 

“Not really,” John said, pulling ahead and running up the three flights of stairs they’d chosen. 

Ronon overtook him before he was halfway up the second tier and whacked him with a bantos rod before charging the rest of the way up. 

“You’re gonna regret that, Chewie!” John shouted, putting on a burst of speed to catch up. 

“Can’t regret what I enjoyed!” Ronon shouted back, grinning over his shoulder as he leaped up the last flight and raced across the catwalk. 

John charged after him, pulling a bantos rod out of the sheath strapped across his back and aiming at the back of Ronon’s knee. 

Ronon dodged deftly and tripped him neatly with a slyly placed rod before leaping to the next set of stairs and pulling himself around and up. 

Shaking his head, John got up and dusted himself off before taking off after his running partner. “What exactly is it you think I need to talk about?” he asked when he caught up. 

Ronon eyed him as they ran up a steep incline, then shrugged. “You tell me.” 

John would be damned if he brought it up first. “Nothing on my mind, buddy,” he said and ran ahead, well aware of Ronon’s eyes on him. Dammit, he wasn’t going to fall for this. 

Ronon passed him easily, then turned, grabbing either side of the railings to effectively block the path and damn if it wasn’t the only way out. And John definitely didn’t want to run back the way they’d come. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously as he slowed, then stopped. “You planned this,” he said slowly. 

“No other way to get you to talk, Sheppard,” Ronon said easily, one corner of his mouth going up in a smug grin. “And you need to talk.” 

John turned, hands on his hips as he made himself take slow, deep breaths, and he looked down over the corridors below, watching the first of the morning shift moving toward the mess hall or whatever early morning routines they followed. “Look, I… I don’t do the talking thing. You know?” 

“Sheppard,” said Ronon with an exasperated sigh. “You wanna talk to me? Or would you rather talk to _Teyla?_ ” 

Okay, if he was going to put it like that… 

John turned and scowled up at the big man. “You play very dirty pool.” 

“Pool here is clean.” Ronon grinned at him, folding his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the rail. “And I don’t play in it. When I get in the pool, it’s _serious_.” 

“This explains a great many things,” said John, disgruntled as he realized how neatly trapped he’d been. He rubbed the back of his neck, peering back up at Ronon. “You sure you really want to do this now, big guy?” 

“Might as well,” said Ronon, watching him. “We’re alone, and there are no cameras or listening devices in this section. You don’t have to worry about anyone overhearing us and we’ll hear anyone coming this way long before we see them.” 

“You really _did_ plan this,” John said with a frown. “That’s… unlike you…” 

Ronon shrugged. “Life as a Runner, you learn to set your traps carefully.” 

Well… when he put it that way… John sighed, finally admitting defeat to himself. He leaned against the opposite rail and crossed his arms over his chest before looking back up at Ronon, who was watching him patiently. “Okay, _fine_. I found out last night that Dr. Keller isn’t staying on the city.” 

Ronon grunted. “So?” 

“So… McKay’s _dating_ her,” said John, pushing away from the rail and moving to the other side of the catwalk and looking out through the wide windows at the slowly lightening sky reflected in the ocean. The sun would rise soon. 

“And?” said Ronon slowly. 

John turned to glare at him. “Are you kidding? Keller’s not staying, and McKay is dating her, which means McKay is probably not staying, which means he’ll be _leaving Atlantis_ , which means he won’t be going back to Pegasus with m… us.” 

Ronon frowned. “You really think McKay would stay here? Even though he doesn’t love her that way?” 

“Of _course_ , he’ll stay, he wants… wait…” John glared up at the Satedan. “What do you mean, he doesn’t love her that way?” 

Turning to look out the same windows, Ronon snorted, his hands coming down to grip the rail comfortably. “You seriously don’t see it?” 

“See what?” 

Ronon shook his head. “McKay loves Keller, and yeah, they shared blankets, but… he doesn’t love her as a mate.” He looked down at John, the look in his eyes warm and confident. “Never really has. He’ll stay on Atlantis, with his family.” 

John frowned. “Jeannie’s coming to Atlantis?” 

Ronon threw his head back to laugh. “Sheppard,” he said, shaking his head. “You really don’t see it, do you?” 

“What are you talking about?” John followed him as he started to head down the stairs. “Is Jeannie coming or not?” 

“She’s not coming, Sheppard, unless it’s to visit,” Ronon said, pausing at the head of the stairs. He snorted, then turned to face John, looking into his eyes in that way that meant he was serious. “Think about it, Sheppard. We’re his team, you, me, and Teyla. He’s closer to us than anybody. He’s done things for us that he’s never done for anyone else. He delivered Teyla’s son, and plays with him, and McKay doesn’t like kids.” He tilted his head as he watched John absorbing this. “We’re his _family_. He’s not leaving us.” 

Something, some hard, cold knot that had been in John’s chest since he’d heard that Jennifer Keller was staying on Earth loosened and he was able to take in a deep breath. “He’s not leaving us,” he said slowly. 

“No, he's not,” said Ronon. “Now come on, Sheppard, we have a run to finish before I go beat up some more of your new soldiers.” 

“Roger that,” said John, feeling considerably more at ease as he followed his friend down the stairs and off for the next section of challenges. 

 

 

 

Rodney wasn’t sure how he felt about the message he was holding in his hand. Granted, they’d been on Earth long enough that he really should have contacted his sister, but truthfully, they’d been so slammed with meetings, and requisitions, and so many other things that really, nobody had done much in the way of contacting their families on Earth. At least not until going on leave. 

“Sir?” 

Rodney jumped, looking into Chuck’s expectant eyes. “What?” 

“Sir, she’s expecting a reply.” Chuck’s voice was neutral. “And I got the impression this is sort of… time-sensitive.” 

“Time sensitive?” Rodney ripped open the envelope and pulled out the letter inside, noting that his sister’s normally neat handwriting was a bit… scrawly, if that was even a word. 

 

 

_**Mer,** _

_**On way to hospital. Been trying to contact you for weeks, what you can’t pick up a phone and CALL ME?? Just grab John and get to _________ Hospital, sixth floor. Knowing you, it’ll all be over and done with by the time you get yourself in gear and actually get here.**_

_**WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? MOVE IT!!**_

_**Jeannie**_

_**P.S. I love you, you jerk.**_

 

 

Dr. Meredith Rodney McKay’s mouth worked soundlessly for a total of ten seconds before he charged away from the control center. “ _John!!_ ” he bellowed. “John, _where are you???_ ” 

Chuck watched Dr. McKay run down the stairs, shouting for Colonel Sheppard at the top of his lungs, before turning to Banks and holding out his hand. “Pay up,” he said smugly. 

Banks shook her head and reached into her pocket, pulling out a twenty. “I was _sure_ it would take him at least twenty five seconds to process that letter before he started shouting for the Colonel,” she said as she handed it over. 

Chuck grinned. “Dr. McKay’s got a really big, _really fast_ brain. Anything that doesn’t involve complex math calculations only takes him 5 -10 seconds.” He put the twenty in his pocket and patted it, then looked back toward the stairs and started counting. “Five… four… three… two…” 

McKay came charging back up the stairs and stared at Chuck breathlessly. “Where’s the Colonel?” 

“He’s in the gym with Teyla,” Chuck said calmly. “Working out with the…” 

“Thanks,” McKay said, starting to rush away, then he stopped and came back, literally dancing in place. “Uh… tell her I’ll be there ASAP. And not to die until _after_ I arrive.” He started to leave, then came back. “No, tell her not to die. _Period._ ” He went white. “Oh, God…” 

“Breathe, Dr. McKay,” said Banks helpfully, and he nodded abstractedly at her before charging back down the stairs again. 

Chuck held out his hand again, and she pulled another twenty from her pocket, shaking her head as she laughed. “I am never betting against you again when it concerns Dr. McKay,” she said, handing it over. 

“I’m first wave,” Chuck said with a grin, and went on to relay the scientist’s message back to the SGC. 

 

 

 

She had to be dying. She _had_ to be dying! For what other reason would the SGC allow John to accompany him to Vancouver and use the _Daedelus_ to _beam_ them to an empty stairwell at the hospital? Oh, _why_ hadn’t he called her? He could have made time to call her _somewhere_ in the mass of meetings, commissions, committees, and other useless bureaucratic nonsense they’d been through over the last weeks, and he had so much leave accrued, he could have taken it and… 

“ _Breathe_ , Rodney,” John said, gripping his shoulders. 

Rodney drew in a deep, wheezing breath and stared at John frantically. “Sixth floor,” he said, eyes wide. “She said… she said sixth floor…” 

“I know,” said John, leading him out of the stairwell and to the bank of elevators, punching the button and turning back to grip him by the shoulders again. “Calm down…” 

“What if she’s dying, John?” His throat felt thick, and he felt as if all the breath was leaving his body. “What if she’s… what if the nanites…” 

“We fixed that, remember?” John shook him firmly. “Stop freaking out.” 

“John, she told me to get here ASAP, that… that it would probably be all over by the time I got here…” Tears flooded his eyes and he turned to grab John by the lapels of his jacket. “John, radio _Daedelus_ , tell them to beam us directly to her _room!!_ ” 

“Here’s the elevator, come on, buddy,” John said, tugging the man after him when the doors opened and nodding at the people who had gathered to watch them curiously. “Smile at the nice people, Rodney,” he said. 

Rodney looked up, frowning as the doors closed, then turned to John. “We have to get there!” he said frantically. 

“Elevator’s moving, Rodney, take a deep breath, okay, buddy?” 

Rodney took in a deep breath, and grimaced. “If I hyperventilate and faint and miss my sister’s dying words, I’ll never forgive you,” he said grimly. 

John just managed to not roll his eyes, but he was grateful when the elevator pinged their arrival at the sixth floor, and he hustled Rodney out and to the nurse’s station. There was something odd about this floor, he thought, noticing the preponderance of balloons and teddy bears as Rodney rushed up to the nurse on duty. 

“I’m here to see Jeannie Miller?” Rodney said almost frantically. 

The nurse looked up before typing into her keyboard. “Your names?” she asked with a smile. 

“Dr. Rodney McKay and Colonel John Sheppard,” Rodney said. “Is she okay? Is she… is it… are we too late?” 

The nurse looked up, then laughed softly. “She’s fine, Dr. McKay, and you’re in plenty of time. In fact, they’re ready for visitors now, you can go on back, room 607.” She pointed helpfully to the left. 

Rodney nodded and rushed down the hall, John behind him. “Slow down, McKay,” he said, trying to catch his arm. 

“I have to see her, John,” Rodney said and skidded to a stop at a door with a large “607” painted on it in cheerful colors. He pushed it open and rushed in. “Jeannie! Jeannie, are you all right… _Jeannie???_ ” 

Alarmed by the change in Rodney’s voice, John rushed in after him and rocked back when he saw Rodney seemingly frozen in place at the foot of his sister’s bed. 

Jeannie McKay Miller looked up, her face tired but serene as she rested back against her husband, a little bundle wrapped in blue in her arms. “Mer!” she said with a smile. “You came!!” 

“I… yeah, I came,” said Rodney, his eyes fixed on the bundle before slowly moving up to take in his sister’s face. “I… your message… I thought you were dying…” 

She blinked, then laughed softly. “I’m sorry, Rodney… I was a little… preoccupied when I wrote that note, and in a bit of a hurry. Can you forgive me?” 

Rodney moved closer slowly, staring at the tiny hand that waved from the depths of the blue blanket. “Sure. Sure.” He looked back at John, then at Kaleb, who nodded encouragingly. “Jeannie… what… is that… is that…?” 

“Your nephew,” she said, watching her brother as he finally stopped, standing next to her, and she pushed the blankets open so he could see the face of the newborn she was holding. “Meredith Rodney McKay, I would like you to meet Rodney McKay Miller.” 

The small, wizened face scrunched, then smoothed out and dark blue eyes opened to peer up at him as the little mouth opened in a tiny yawn. Rodney stared, entranced, then reached down to touch the tiny hand that had been waving and watched as it gripped his finger tightly. “You… you named him… after _me?_ ” 

“It seemed fitting,” said Kaleb softly. He looked up at Rodney with a smile. “We can tell him that he’s named after one of the bravest, smartest men we know.” 

Rodney stared at Kaleb for a long moment, then at his sister, who nodded with a tearful, happy smile. She lifted the baby up, and Rodney slowly took the small body in his arms, long experience with holding Torren serving him well now. He knew just how to support the small body and the head, and he turned to John, his face incandescent. “John! I have a nephew!” he said with a big grin. 

“You sure do!” John came closer and looked into the little face, then at Jeannie and Kaleb. “He’s beautiful, too! Even if he does look like Winston Churchill.” 

“He does _not!_ ” protested Rodney even as Jeannie giggled. He looked down into little Rodney’s face and kept his private agreement to himself. After all, it was the _principal_ of the thing. “He looks like a McKay! And… a Miller,” he said, meeting Kaleb’s eyes. 

Kaleb grinned. 

The door opened again, and Madison burst in. “Is he _here?_ Is my _brother_ here?” 

“Yes, he is,” said Jeannie, sitting up and catching her daughter by the hand. “Uncle Rodney’s going to sit down, and you can take a look at him when he’s sitting, okay?” 

Rodney sat down in a haze of wonderment and shock, and smiled up at his niece, who leaned over him to coo at the baby. He met John’s eyes over her golden head and smiled, knowing he probably looked utterly besotted, but at the moment, he felt that life was perfect. At this particular moment, everything he cared for most in this universe was in this room, and he was happy. 

 

 

 

In the control center of Atlantis, Amelia Banks collected forty dollars from Chuck, a smirk on her face. “It was a baby, and it was a boy,” she said with a laugh. “Thank you.” 

“Hey, it _could_ have been a kidney,” said Chuck, trying to look disgruntled and failing miserably. Then he sat up. “Okay… what did she name him?” 

Amelia just laughed. “Quit while you’re ahead, Chuck.” 


	10. Friends and Family...

 

“ _Therefore, it is the decision of the International Oversight Advisory that the City of Atlantis be allowed to return to the Pegasus Galaxy, there to continue in her mission to foster understanding between the peoples of the Pegasus Galaxy and the Milky Way, and to fight back the scourge of the Wraith._ ” Jack grinned at the people sitting around the conference room table as he tossed the official document down in front of him. “Of course, it didn’t hurt that during the course of the interrogation process, we came across some _serious_ breaches of security, and definite violations of the non-disclosure agreements that could possibly result in some prison time.” 

“So... we have a go?” Sheppard asked with a gleam in his eyes. 

Jack smirked. “Yes, Colonel Sheppard. You have a go. Ah, ah, ah, not so fast,” he said when the man looked like he was going to leap up and head to the chair room that second, “there’s more.” 

“More?” McKay rolled his eyes. “What _now?_ ” 

“Apparently, none of you have been following the news lately,” he said, sharing a look with Woolsey, who smiled with actual mischief dancing in his eyes and stood. 

“Are you kidding? When have we had _time?_ ” complained McKay, and there were noises of assent from around the table. “Besides, whatever time I had free, I didn’t want to spend it listening to _bad news_.” 

“Trust me, Dr. McKay, you’ll like this news,” said Richard, moving to stand next to Jack. “I thought you might all be interested in hearing that the United States is the latest nation to allow the rights of LGTB persons to marry and have that marriage recognized legally. That any person on Atlantis who has so far hesitated to marry a person of the same gender, for fear of persecution or that it wouldn’t be recognized, can now do so without any fears whatsoever.” 

As he watched heads turning around the table, and eyes meeting, Jack kept his own personal little victory dance completely internalized. Worked better that way, really. Still, he couldn’t help snorting a little when Teyla looked around at her friends and then at him before saying, “I… do not understand?” 

Dr. Keller cleared her throat, then said, “The United States, the country that Colonel Sheppard and… Mr. Woolsey, and General O’Neill are from, several years ago, they passed a law to… officially say that marriage could only be between a man and a woman. That… a man could not marry a man, or a woman marry a woman. Just… opposite sexes.” 

“I see,” said Teyla slowly. She looked up at General O’Neill. “And you let this happen?” 

“Well, I fixed it as fast as I could,” Jack said, his hands in his pockets. “But… it got fixed, as you can see. So… anybody from the expedition that wants to marry a same sex partner can do so whenever they wish. Just sayin’…” He cleared his throat. “Now, moving on… Colonel Sheppard…” 

Sheppard looked up from his contemplation of his notes. “Yes, General?” 

“Is there _anything else_ that you can think of that you’d like to take back with you on the return trip to Pegasus?” 

Sheppard stared at him for a long moment and a slow smile grew, lighting up his eyes. “As a matter of fact, General O’Neill, McKay and I have put together a list…” 

He’d dropped enough surprises on them for now, so O’Neill sat down in his chair, knowing Carter and Walter would be taking comprehensive notes, and prepared himself for the surely outrageous list of things the Dynamic Duo would want for their people before going back home. 

 

 

 

Dr. Siu Pei looked up at Rodney with tear filled eyes. “Really?” she asked softly. “You can… you’d bring my parents here?” 

“Of course!” said Rodney firmly. “They can either come stay on the city with us and go with us back to Pegasus, or General O’Neill will help them settle either in the U.S. or Canada, whichever would be more comfortable for them. I noticed, however, that your mother is a pediatrician, and your father is a linguist, and both are specialties that we could very much use on the city…” 

“I can understand wanting a linguist like my father,” Siu said slowly, “but a pediatrician?” 

Rodney snorted. “Siu, we are going to have families on Atlantis. People will be getting married, and married people usually means children.” He shook his head at her wide eyes. “Plus, how many missions have we run into children who needed the sort of empathy a doctor who treats children could supply?” 

“I did not think of that, Dr. McKay,” she said slowly. Then she sat up. “Yes, please… _please_ bring them! I am their only child, and… I’ve been so worried… it’s why I haven’t tried to call them… I didn’t want to make things worse for them…” 

Rodney grimaced. He wasn’t going to tell her that her father had already been in prison for his daughter’s reluctance to leave the city. That had been a difficult extraction, but a bit of judicious political blackmail on the part of Homeland Security had secured Dr. Pei Tengfei’s release. They were already due to be beamed in via the _Apollo_ , which happened to be in orbit at the moment. “I am sure they will be happy and relieved to see you.” 

Her response was a tearful babble of Mandarin too fast for Rodney to comprehend, but… he understood the emotions behind it very well. He stood there patiently, letting her grip his hands to the point of numbness until she was able to draw a deep, shaky breath, and look up at him again. 

One of her Marine guards fished a wildly colorful bandana out of his pocket and handed it to her, blushing when Rodney raised an eyebrow. “Sister gave it to me,” the man muttered, and Rodney let it go. 

Dr. Pei took it and wiped her tearstained face with it. “Thank you, Sgt. Moore,” she said softly, and looked back up at Rodney. “And thank _you_

“Any minute now,” Rodney said with a smile, and he helped her to her feet. “Why don’t you go wash your face, and we’ll go wait in the gate room, okay? Dr. Kiang’s and Dr. Tsao’s families will be beaming in today, too.” 

It had been decided that it would be better all the way around if those people most vulnerable in the three scientist’s families were brought to the SGC and given the option of either staying in the U.S. or going with their loved one to Pegasus. 

Siu blinked at Rodney, then smiled. “You mean, Steve’s lover, Tam, will be coming to Atlantis? He’ll be _so_ happy and relieved!!” 

Rodney frowned. “Lover?” 

Siu’s face creased in distress. “Didn’t you know? Steve was forced to leave his partner, Chang Tam, behind. The government wouldn’t let them leave together, even though Tam has done some really incredible work in genetics. Steve said he felt they made Tam stay behind so they could use him to control Steve.” 

Rodney privately agreed. “Do you know where Dr. Chang is now?” 

“No,” said Siu, crumpling Sgt. Moore’s bandana in her hands. “And Steve hasn’t heard from him since we arrived. He’s very worried…” 

“Don’t worry, Siu,” said Rodney, patting her hands. “Now that I know, I can talk to General O’Neill. You go wash your face, you don’t want your parents to see you’ve been crying, do you?” 

He watched her follow her escorts out of the lab, and went back to his office, clicking his radio. “Colonel Sheppard, we have a problem…” 

 

 

 

General O’Neill stared at Xueqin Zha with dislike and forced himself to sit still, to blank his face so that he didn’t reveal just _how much_ he didn’t like this man before it was time. 

Zha’s face was shut down with a cold blankness that would have infuriated Jack if he hadn’t been the one holding all the cards. “I cannot imagine, General O’Neill, what more information you can get from me, seeing as how your interrogators have already done their best,” he said calmly. 

Jack didn’t smile. “You have knowledge of the whereabouts of one Dr. Tam Chang,” he said, picking up a file and making a show of looking through it. “I want to know where he is.” 

Zha frowned. “Chang Tam? You want to know about Chang Tam, a second rate doctor who likes to play with mice? Of what possible worth could he be?” 

“Oh, no,” said Jack, meeting Zha’s eyes squarely. “We’re not playing that game. All you need to know is that I want Dr. Chang’s location, and I want it _now_.” 

“Contrary to popular belief, General O’Neill, the Chinese government does not know the location of every single one of its citizens at any given moment,” Zha said with a scowl. 

“Maybe not.” Jack closed the folder and folded his hands over it. “But… your government _does_ know the location of every single dissident who speaks the truth a little too loudly for its comfort, and I happen to know Dr. Chang is one of those dissidents. So I’ll ask you again, where is he?” 

Zha made a show of picking lint off the sleeve of his jacket before looking back up. “What makes you think Dr. Chang is a dissident? And if he is, what makes you think he’s still alive?” 

“You’d better hope he’s still alive, Xueqin Zha, because if he isn’t, well, I have a Stargate, and _nothing_ would give me more pleasure than to dial the address of a space gate and push you through it. And depending on how vindictive I’m feeling, I may or may not give you a pressure suit.” Jack smiled sweetly. “Of course, not being a scientist or involved in a space program, you probably don’t understand the significance of my threat.” 

“Threat?” Zha snorted. “How is dialing a space gate and tossing me through without a pressure suit in any way a _threat?_ I land on the other side, I get up, brush myself off, and wait until someone who can dial Earth comes through.” He smiled smugly at Jack. “I _did_ read the mission briefings about going through the gate, though I _am_ regretting having never learned Earth’s address myself.” 

Jack laughed softly and shook his head. “Ah, ignorance,” he said, leaning back. “A space gate, Minister, does _not_ open on another planet. It opens in _space_. You won’t land on a _planet_ , you’ll find yourself in open space _above_ a planet.” He watched the man pale and smirked. “And depending on how vindictive I’m feeling, I might let you have a pressure suit… or not. And lest you think having a suit is a mercy, let me explain something to you.” He leaned forward, staring intently into Zha’s eyes. “If I _don’t_ give you a suit, you’d last as long as you could hold your breath… if the freezing cold doesn’t get you first. Decompression is a rather painful way to die, so I understand.” He watched the man go green and smiled grimly. “Of course, if I _do_ give you a suit, you’ll live longer, but… I’m not sure that’s exactly merciful. See… you can’t dial a space gate from space without a DHD… and space gates don’t have a DHD. So… you’d float there until you drifted so far away that anyone dialing the gate won’t matter, or you’d fall into the planet and become their latest meteor. That’s _if_ you were still conscious.” 

“Still… conscious?” Zha swallowed hard. “What… what do you mean?” 

“Well,” said Jack, really warming to his subject now, “a pressure suit only carries a very _finite_ amount of air. And power. Mostly air. You’d probably run out of air long before you have to worry about burning up while entering the atmosphere…” 

Zha stared at him with wide, dark eyes, his fingers pressed so tightly against the desk top that they were white. 

“You know, I liked Shen Xiaoyi,” said Jack, looking at his nails. “She believed in the Stargate program, and she actually worked for the betterment of her people, rather than the betterment of her bank account. There are a lot of people, McKay included, who are looking for the person responsible for causing the Chinese government to turn on her. Seems a man might do something to turn some of that very _unfavorable attention_ away from himself…” 

It took six minutes and 43 seconds for Xueqin Zha to start talking. 

 

 

 

They held a large barbecue on the West pier to celebrate both their return to the Pegasus galaxy, and to welcome the families who were choosing to join their loved ones on Atlantis. The Chief of Staff of the Air Force sent a few choice steers from his family’s ranch near the San Gabriel River in Texas, much to the joy of the mess hall staff, and the engineering department leaped at the challenge of creating pits big enough (and efficient enough) to handle all the grilling. There was salmon and chicken for those who didn’t want beef or pork, as well as a selection of grilled vegetables, and tables and benches were set up for eating. 

The family of Dr. Steven Tsao gathered around his partner, Dr. Tam Chang, and John got a big kick out of watching Steven’s tiny mother urging the former prisoner to eat a little more of this, and a little more of that. The woman was determined to nurse the frail looking man back to health, and John didn’t doubt for one moment that she would. He recognized a force of nature when he saw one. 

He recognized another in the woman who was approaching him from where the medical staff was gathered around their newest member, a pediatrician from what he understood. Jennifer Keller, however, had already paid her respects and was now headed for him, and he had to wonder what she was going to say. 

“Colonel Sheppard,” she said, when she’d reached him. 

“Dr. Keller,” he said with a nod, making a quick check of everyone before focusing on her again. 

She watched him for a moment, then said, “I suppose you’ve heard I’m staying here on Earth.” 

“Mr. Woolsey mentioned it,” he said, taking a sip of his beer. “Sorry to hear it.” 

“Are you really?” she asked, one eyebrow up. 

He refused to rise to the bait, taking a moment to nod at Major Lorne when he looked at John inquiringly. “I’m sorry to hear about your father,” he said calmly. “If it helps, I lost my mother to cancer when I was a teenager.” 

“Breast cancer?” 

John refused to decipher the look in her eyes and instead looked out over the water where the sun was sinking slowly into the ocean. “No. Skin cancer, actually.” He stared at his bottle. “Mom loved horses and she loved to garden. Spent a lot of time outdoors, and she didn’t always wear a hat. One day she has a really funky freckle on her shoulder, and the next she’s in the hospital having surgery and going through chemo. She was gone in six months, but I think that was because she made up her mind not to suffer.” 

Keller’s mouth had dropped wide open in shock before she closed it with a snap. “But… Rodney… and the sunscreen he makes… he’s always trying to get you to put it on and you _refuse_ …” 

“I always wear sunscreen,” said John with a smirk. “And sometimes I wear his, though I don’t tell him about it. I just… like to wind him up, just to watch him go.” 

He didn’t expect her to punch him in the arm. “That is _so_ not cool!” she said, though there was a smile in her voice, and that was when John realized something had changed between them. At least on her end. “Rodney’s been _fretting_ about that, and if you _ever_ tell him about your mom, he’ll _totally_ freak!” 

“Okay, okay,” he said, holding up his hands. “I’ll make sure he knows I wear sunscreen, sheesh, _enough_ with the punching already!” 

She shook her head, arms crossed over her chest as she frowned at him. Then she sighed. “I know you love him, John,” she said finally in a low voice. 

He froze. 

“I love him, too, even though it took me a while to realize that I love him as my best friend, Rodney, and not as… a lover. Though he’s great at that, too,” she said, keeping her voice soft. Keller moved closer to him and laid a hand gently on his arm and leaned in, keeping her voice pitched to his ears only. “I just want you to know that if you ever… _ever_ hurt him, or break his heart, they will never, ever find your body. I’m a doctor. I know _precisely_ how to dispose of a body so that no one ever finds it. Am I making myself clear here, Colonel?” 

He swallowed hard. “Never hurt Rodney or you make me disappear. Got it.” 

She smiled beatifically at him. “And remember, I’m a doctor. And I’m a genius. I could make you suffer for a long, long… _long_ time before I ever killed you. Just so you know.” She stepped back and patted his arm cheerfully. ‘I’m glad we had this little chat, John. I know _I_ feel much better now that we’re friends. Don’t you?” 

John stared at her, horrified, but he made himself smile quickly when her jaw hardened. “Oh… oh, yes… _much_ better now that we’re friends! Much!” Then he leaned toward her. “Anybody ever tell you that you are a scary, scary woman?” 

Jennifer Keller laughed merrily. “Oh, Colonel, you flatter me! I’ll talk to you later!” She turned and headed for a group of friends, laughing and chattering as if she hadn’t just been threatening John with major bodily harm. 

He took a swig of his beer. “Man, the prettier they are, the _scarier_ they are!” 

It was probably time, John thought on discovering that his bottle was empty, to go find his team and celebrate with them. After all, there was safety in numbers. 


	11. Interlude 2 - Officers and Gentlemen

 

John stared at the very official document in his hand and tried to wrap his mind around the information it contained. A knock sounded at his door and he looked up to see Major Lorne standing there, a similar document in his own hands. 

“You got one, too, sir?” Lorne said, coming in and closing the door behind him. 

“Well,” said John slowly, looking up to meet his second in command’s clear blue gaze, “if it’s a notification of promotion, then… yeah.” 

Lorne dropped into the chair John kept for his visitors, mainly Rodney, and leaned back, tossing his letter over to John. “Yes, sir, that’s exactly what it is.” 

John took it and read it through, then handed it back, nodding. “I imagine there’s going to be promotions across the board, pretty much. All deserved.” 

“Yeah, but…” and Lorne looked down at his paper, fiddling with it for a moment. “Doesn’t that usually mean transfers?” 

“Normally,” said John, watching him. “Command likes to spread good officers around, give them experience in other areas, that sort of thing. But… Atlantis is a special circumstance, and General O’Neill has already guaranteed that anyone who wants to stay with her can.” He eyed Lorne sharply. “Why, you want to transfer?” 

“Hell, no!” Lorne grinned. “Are you kidding? This is home. Atlantis, I mean. And the people here… I have a family here, you know? And I’m not going to leave, not willingly! Sir.” 

John nodded, understanding completely. “Ready to go back to Pegasus?” 

“You bet, sir. I have to wonder how much Torren has grown since we left.” 

“I know, feels like we’ve been here for years.” John sighed as Lorne grimaced. Their effective leave date was still a week away, what with McKay and Zelenka going over every single system in the city with a fine toothed comb and the help of General Carter and her teams. Then there was the settling in of the families accompanying personnel, making sure all the living quarters were actually livable, supplying the hydroponic gardens and greenhouses that had been cleaned out and set up. Atlantis was nearly ready for her return to Pegasus, and it couldn’t come soon enough for John. 

“So… we’re going to have a promotion ceremony?” 

John looked up from his thoughts and grimaced. “God, I hope not. I mean, I understand why some people like them, but… really, I’d rather just have O’Neill do it in private, you know? With maybe my team and a few of my friends present. No need for a big flashy ceremony.” 

Lorne snorted. “You do realize if Dr. McKay catches wind of this that you’re going to have the full bells and whistles, right?” 

“Which is why McKay isn’t going to find out about it,” said John firmly. 

“Find out about what?” 

John nearly leaped out of his skin and glared at the scientist who had slipped quietly into his office. “Dammit, McKay, what is it, we say your name and you just… _appear?_ ” 

Rodney nearly danced with glee. “Are you saying that _I_ , Dr. Rodney McKay, supreme scientist and nerd, successfully snuck up on _you???”_

“Enjoy it while it lasts, McKay,” John said with mock irritation, though he got a kick out of how pleased Rodney seemed to be about it. 

Rodney beamed at him and sat down on a corner of the desk after a frown in Lorne’s direction for being in his chair. “So… what are we talking about? A ceremony? What kind? A wedding? Who’s getting married? You know, I think Woolsey is able to marry people, and…aren’t you, too, John? Though technically, you’re not a ship’s captain, so, I don’t know if that counts…” 

“Colonel Sheppard and I are being promoted,” Lorne cut in smoothly before John could stop him. “And we were talking about how it’s likely to be handled. Because with all the preparations still being made to get the city ready to return, there’s not a lot of time for ceremonies…” 

“No, I was thinking of something much more quiet,” said John as Rodney turned to glare at him. “Just the team and maybe a few friends in O’Neill’s office… quiet, understated… maybe a cake or some pudding cups after…” 

Rodney glared at him. “Are you fucking _kidding me???”_ He stood and crossed his arms over his chest. “I may be socially awkward, and sometimes oblivious to what’s going on around me, but even _I_ know that the people of this city, military _and_ civilian, _need_ to see you being honored and promoted, not just by O’Neill, but also by whatever big wigs we can strong arm into coming here, if I have to do it _myself!_ You _will_ do this, John,” Rodney said, pointing a finger at him when he opened his mouth to protest. “Or do I have to sic Jennifer, Jeannie, _and_ Teyla on you?” 

And John seriously had no answer to that. At least, not one that wouldn’t end up with him having no hot water and no lights for the next six months… 

 

 

 

…which was how John found himself standing on temporary stage that had been set up in the park on the East Pier, shaking hands with President Henry Hayes after being officially promoted from Lieutenant Colonel to full Colonel. And then stood still as his brother, Dave, pinned on his eagles. Dave focused on his task, then met John’s eyes calmly. “I’m proud of you, you know,” he said softly, smoothing down the collar point he’d just pinned. 

He had to breathe slowly, and his eyes stung for a moment, but just a moment. He swallowed hard, then when he could speak, he said,”Thanks, Dave. That… means a lot.” 

“I know,” said Dave with a small smile, and there was something in his eyes that John hadn't expected to see. Respect. “Which is why I said it. Doesn’t change the fact that I’m proud of you.” 

John nodded, then turned to salute the president, then the other officers standing on the stage before returning to his seat. His had been the last promotion, and now there were the speeches and congratulating to get through. He sat down then let his eyes wander over to where Dave was sitting down next to Jeannie Miller, her infant son sleeping soundly in her arms. Rodney sat next to her, peering over her shoulder into the baby’s face, and Teyla firmly tapped his shoulder, making him face forward again. Ronon smirked at him , and John relaxed. His family was here. Everything else… was cake. 

 


	12. Dreams and Movie Marathons

 

“Rodney. Rodney. _Rod…ney!_ ” 

Rodney jumped and turned to glare at Radek. “What?” 

The Czech engineer pushed his glasses up and looked up at Rodney with concern. “Where were you?” 

“What do you mean, where was I? I’m right here, aren’t I?” Rodney pushed irritably away from the worktable and stalked over to the monitors showing the latest results of their power usage tests. 

“No,” said Radek gently, following him, though he was looking down at his tablet rather than up at Rodney. “You were not here. Your mind was a million miles away, and do not say you were thinking of great ideas. I know that look, and you did not have it.” 

“What would you know?” Rodney grumbled, moving to check the connections for one of the monitors when the display trembled. 

“I know you, Rodney,” Radek said, taking the screwdriver he’d been about to use away from him and pushing him gently aside, reaching down to tighten a connection before giving the table the monitor was sitting on a sharp slap. The display cleared immediately and Radek turned to face Rodney again. “You are thinking… not of Jennifer, but of someone else.” 

Rodney stared at the man who had been his friend and coworker for the last five years. Well, longer than that, actually, but the last five years had been the most intense, both of them practically in each other’s back pockets at times, finishing each other’s sentences, each able to pick up the other’s train of thought in an instant. It shouldn’t surprise him that Radek would be able to read this as well. He sighed and leaned back against the work counter and rubbed his face. “Radek,” he began, wondering how to broach the subject at all. He sighed and covered his eyes for a moment. 

“My old friend,” Radek said softly, and Rodney looked up to find the man smiling, that soft, gentle smile that was so rare, and because of it, so very special. “My old friend, there is nothing you could tell me that would change my opinion of you as a brilliant, cranky, arrogant, brave, and entirely too kind man. I _know_ you, Rodney McKay,” he said, patting Rodney’s arm lightly, “I know who and what you are, and nothing will change that. Now, tell me, my old, dear friend, what it is that is troubling you?” 

Rodney sighed and shook his head, though he smiled ruefully at his old friend. As he had been discovering recently, there was more to family than just blood, and more than just… team. “I… am not in love with Jennifer Keller,” he said slowly. 

“This I knew,” said Radek with amusement. “I wonder, though, when you knew it.” 

“Would have been nice if you’d let _me_ in on this, you know,” said Rodney, though there was no venom in his words. 

“Would not have believed me if I had told you,” said Radek, leaning back against the opposite counter. He pushed his glasses up again. “So… you realized?” 

“Yes,” said Rodney with a sigh. “I realized it when it dawned on me that the first person I wanted to tell… a… realization I’d just had to was… someone who was... not... Jennifer,” he finished lamely. 

“Ah,” said Radek wisely. “Colonel Sheppard.” 

“How’d you… I mean… _what?_ ” Rodney only just managed to keep his mouth from falling open. 

“Naturally, you’d want to tell John first,” said Radek sardonically. “This is not news. You are in love with him, it is only natural you want to share news with him.” 

“You… knew that?” It fell open anyway. 

Radek snorted. “Please, Rodney. I was born in communist country, someone as intelligent as I am does not stay alive by being _unobservant_.” He shook his head at Rodney’s expression. “I’ve known your feelings for Sheppard, and his feelings for you, for several years now.” 

Rodney sat down slowly. “Several… years…” he said, stunned, then looked back at Radek in shock. “Really? I’ve… I’ve been in love with him for several years?” 

“Oh, Rodney,” Radek said sadly, coming to take his hand and pat it gently . “When the rest of what I said sinks in, I fear for your sanity.” 

“What?” Rodney frowned. “What are you… wait…” and Radek’s words, _and his feelings for you_ , came back to him. He blinked. Well, of course. Why not? “Radek… I have something to do.” 

“Of course,” said Radek, stepping back and watching him keenly. “Be careful, Rodney.” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Rodney said absently, leaving the lab and walking, his body completely on automatic. 

 

 

 

Teyla held little Rodney, looking into his dark blue eyes and touching the soft golden curls on his head. “It’s hard to believe Torren was ever this small,” she said, smiling up at Jeannie. “He’s beautiful, Jeannie.” 

Jeannie smiled. “Thank you. And unlike his namesake, Roddy’s pretty laid-back. I’m lucky that he takes after his father.” 

“Oh, but he’s a curious little one, even so young,” said Teyla, smiling as the little eyes stared at her intently before the little hands waved, reaching for the face that hung just above him. “Look at that!” 

“Watch it, Teyla, he loves grabbing hair,” Jeannie said with a laugh. 

“Most babies do,” said Teyla, laughing when one of the little hands finally caught a ruddy lock and tugged. “Yes, you have caught me,” she said, cooing into Roddy’s little face and gently freeing her hair from his hand, making sure there were no strands wrapped around the little fingers. “Is he nursing well?” 

“Yes,” said Jeannie, wrapping her arms around her chest for a moment, and Teyla’s own breasts briefly ached in sympathy. “I’m not having nearly the problems I had with Madison. And that sort of brings me around to the point I wanted to discuss with you.” 

Teyla nodded, settling Roddy in her arms so that he was facing his mother and letting him wrap his fingers around one of hers. “You are thinking of bringing your family to live on Atlantis, aren’t you?” 

Jeannie blushed. “Well, yes. I’ve been… having some pretty odd dreams, and I can’t help thinking that… well, I _need_ to be here. And I need to bring Kaleb, Maddy, and Roddy, because they won’t be safe if I leave them behind…” 

“Won’t be safe?” Teyla watched Jeannie’s face intently. This was not the first time she’d heard this. Several people on the expedition had mentioned this to her, explaining why they suddenly felt the need to bring certain family members to the city. “How, exactly?” 

“I… don’t know,” Jeannie said slowly, her brows drawn in a familiar frown. “I… just know I can’t leave them here. That we _all_ need to come, we… we can’t stay.” She stared at Teyla urgently, and the Athosian was startled to see tears in the other woman’s eyes. “I can’t… explain better than that. Yet.” 

“I understand,” Teyla said, reaching to touch Jeannie’s arm. “You are not the first to have those dreams, or to mention these concerns to me. I will mention it to Woolsey, that you are willing to come on Atlantis. Is your husband willing to come as well? We will need teachers…” 

Tears of relief were sliding down Jeannie’s cheeks. “He… knows about my dreams. And… though he’s reluctant, he’ll come.” She sighed, as if a great weight was lifting off her shoulders, and Teyla was aware of what that weight was. “I’ll admit, too, that the fact that there are other children coming has helped with his decision.” 

“Yes, there are more than a few children coming,” Teyla said with an encouraging smile. “And I know Rodney will be greatly relieved to know you are coming. He wanted very much to ask, but… he didn’t want you to feel conflicted, or forced.” 

Jeannie snorted. “As if he could force me to do anything.” 

Teyla laughed. “He will be very relieved that his sister will be coming. He misses his family.” 

Jeannie smiled. “Yeah. We missed him, too.” 

Teyla bent over the baby, cooing at him before she handed him back to his mother, turning the conversation back to the wonder of babies, letting Jeannie process their conversation in her own way, and resolving to speak to both Mr. Woolsey and General O’Neill as soon as possible. She’d put it off for far too long. 

 

 

 

John looked up when his door chimed and finished making his brand new bed. He’d taken some time for some personal shopping earlier in the day, things that he’d needed but ignored for a while. Clothes, shoes, music, toiletries… and a decent sized bed. He’d stood McKay’s quips about his toddler sized bed and Lorne’s hints about requisitioning a better mattress, as well as Teyla’s suggestions for softer sheets, for five years. Accumulated back-pay turned out to be good for something, after all, and this bed, with a very decent mattress, thank you very much, was entirely worth every penny he’d spent on it. As was the big flat screen television with the blu-ray player that could hook up wirelessly with his laptop to play his library of movies… along with the new blu-rays he’d bought. 

The door chimed again, breaking him from his thoughts, and he opened it with a thought, not surprised at all when Rodney came in, looking somewhat abstracted. 

He watched the physicist come in, then pace back and forth, his hands fluttering in front of him before he stopped, then turned to stare at John. A little unnerved by this odd behavior, John scratched at the back of his neck and said, “Uh… McKay? Something on your mind?” 

For some reason, Rodney blushed, then turned, pacing again. “Yeah, you could say that.” 

John watched him for a few more minutes, then coughed slightly. “Anything I can help with? Or would you just rather wear a hole in the floor?” 

Rodney stopped and frowned at him. “What?” 

“The pacing thing,” John said, demonstrating with his fingers for a moment. “The thing you’re doing? Right now?” 

Rodney looked down at his feet, then nodded. “Ah. Right.” He bit his lip, then looked at John intently. “John… how do you… no, that’s so 14 year old girl…” 

“Uh…” 

“No, no… look, I’ve… recently come to some realizations about myself,” Rodney began. 

“Look, if this is about Keller,” John cut in, desperate not to have to listen to Rodney bemoaning the breakup. 

“Not exactly,” said Rodney with a frown. “Will you just… shut up and listen?” 

“Fine!” said John, sitting down on his bed and running his hands through his hair in his agitation. 

“Thank you,” said Rodney, starting to pace again. “Like I said, I’ve come to some realizations about myself recently, and the first thing I realized was… while I love Jennifer very much…” 

“God, just shoot me now,” John moaned. 

Rodney glared at him, and he quieted. “While I love Jennifer very much,” Rodney continued through gritted teeth, “I’m not _in love_ with her.” 

John blinked. “You’re not?” 

“No,” said Rodney, lips twitching. “I’m not.” 

“Oh,” said John, not quite sure what to make of this, but there was something fluttering in his chest, something that might have been hope, but he wasn’t sure. “Oh, that’s… that’s good.” 

“It is?” Rodney was staring at him now, all wide eyes, and there was something in them, something that… might have been hope, but… John… wasn’t going to go there just yet. Not yet. 

“Yeah. Yeah, it is.” Okay, so maybe he’d go there. Just a little. 

“Yeah,” said Rodney, beginning to pace again. “So… I realized I wasn’t in love with Jennifer, and I started thinking of what I wanted, what I _really_ wanted. And… and I realized, I didn’t want to have to … to dumb down my conversation, and tone down my snark. And I wanted someone who would totally get it whenever I said something like hey, it’s a good thing we weren’t all wearing red shirts…” 

John laughed. “Right, because… we’d all be dead!” 

“ _Exactly!_ ” said Rodney, pointing at him. “And who wouldn’t think anything of it if I proposed watching the first three Star Wars movies back to back…” 

“The originals or the re-masters?” asked John quickly. 

“The originals, of course,” said Rodney with a little frown. 

“Good,” said John. “Because no matter how much Lucas wants to retcon it, Han shot first.” 

“Absolutely. Tomorrow night?” 

“Works for me,” said John easily, fighting back a grin. 

Rodney frowned. “I can’t help but feel this conversation got massively side-tracked…” 

“It was for a good cause,” John supplied. “Star Wars marathon, what more need be said?” 

Rodney smiled and shook his head. “I know what you’re doing, and you can just stop.” He raised a finger when John would have protested and John fell silent. He sighed, then eyed John for a moment. “You know what the next thought I had was, after I came to that realization?” 

“That you were hungry and needed to have a snack?” John said hopefully. Because he had this horrible sneaking suspicion that _feelings_ were somehow going to be mentioned. 

“No,” said Rodney quietly. “My next thought was that I wished like hell you were there, because the one person I wanted to be there, the one person I knew would get me… is you. I wanted you, John.” 

“Rodney,” John said, staring at him. Okay, so... maybe _feelings_ weren't such a bad thing... 

Rodney watched him, then smiled again. “I think that’s enough for now. I’ll let you process it for a day or so, but I won’t leave you to stew for too long. I know you.” He came toward him and raised his hands, laying them gently on John’s shoulders. “And just in case you don’t really understand what I’m trying to tell you, I’ll be blunt. I love you, John Sheppard. I’ll love you for the rest of my life.” He laid his hand against John’s cheek for a moment, then turned and left. 

John closed his eyes, still feeling the warmth of Rodney’s hand against his cheek. Definitely good. 

His door hissed open again, and he opened his eyes to find Rodney standing in front of him, staring. “Rodney?” 

“When did you get a new bed?? And how did I not notice? And… a new TV? Can we watch Star Wars tonight? Right now?” Rodney was practically twitching in eagerness. 

John stared at him a moment longer, then threw his head back and laughed long and hearty. Something might have changed between them, but the essentials remained exactly the same. Reassured, John got up. “I’ll even spring for the popcorn.” 

Rodney grinned. “Sweet!” 

 


	13. Rescue Run...

 

It was the silence that woke him up. It almost startled him awake, and he opened his eyes, frowning as he tried to remember where he was, and what he was doing. 

The first thing he spotted was the blue screen of the TV, and that’s when he realized he was in his own bed in his quarters. His nice, new, comfortably firm, but soft in just the right ways bed. Except, there seemed to be this… weight on his arm and a rumbling sound that seemed familiar, but he couldn’t understand why it was practically in his ear… 

Wait. 

Movies. Star Wars. A Star Wars marathon… and… Rodney… 

Slowly, John turned his head and nearly sneezed when he got a nose-full of Rodney’s hair. 

“Hmmm-uh… what?” 

“S’okay, Rodney, just… go back to sleep,” John said, starting to settle back against the pillows… then he frowned when something shifted against his side that _wasn't_ Rodney. “On second thought, Rodney… wake up, or we’re going to be sleeping in popcorn…” 

“Sleeping in popcorn,” Rodney said dreamily, snuggling into John’s side. “Lots and lots of popcorn…” 

“Rodney,” John said, his voice a little sharper, and Rodney grumbled. “McKay!!” 

“What? I’m up, I’m up, are we being invaded?” Rodney sat up, looking around blearily, and John winced. It was so rare that Rodney got to actually _sleep_ … He pushed Rodney a little more upright and got up, quickly grabbing the nearly empty bowls and putting them on the desk before going around to where Rodney was swinging his legs over the side of the bed, preparing to get up. 

“Stay put, buddy, and let me get your boots off,” John said, kneeling quickly. 

Rodney peered at him owlishly with a little frown. “Why’re you takin’ my boots off?” 

“Because you can’t put your feet under the covers with your boots on,” John said reasonably. He got one off and started unlacing the other. “Don’t you want to be comfortable?” 

“Mmmmm,” Rodney hummed, his eyes closing. “Comfy.” 

“That’s right,” John said, swallowing a yawn. He pulled the second boot off. “There. Wait, whoa, where you going?” because Rodney stood up suddenly and swayed on his feet. 

“Bathroom,” Rodney said and lurched in that direction. 

John caught him, aimed him more toward the actual door of the bathroom, then let him go. Rodney waved a negligent hand as he made his way to the bathroom, and John took that opportunity to get his own boots off and yank the extra pillows off the bed. He and Rodney spent a lot of time sitting on beds watching movies on their laptops, and after a while, regular pillows just weren’t sturdy enough of a support. He’d invested in nice, thick floor cushions and used those to lean back on and they were perfect. However, they weren’t so great for sleeping on, so he piled them in the corner and pulled the covers down before sitting down to yank off his socks and toss them toward the hamper. He then stood and started unbuckling his belt when he heard it. A small whimper. John looked up and found Rodney standing in the door of the bathroom, pants in hand and staring at John’s feet. John looked down at his pale feet, then back up at Rodney. “What?” 

“I… don’t think I’ve ever seen your bare feet. Ever. In the … um… five years we’ve… you know… known each other,” Rodney said slowly, unable to look away. 

John watched him for a long moment, watched the color slowly spread along the other man’s cheekbones and couldn’t help smirking. “You like my feet?” 

“Ridiculously,” muttered Rodney without seeming aware he’d even said it. He shook himself and stared at John, eyes going wide. “Uh… I mean…” 

“You think my feet are sexy,” said John, flexing his toes against the floor and watched Rodney’s eyes zero in on the movement. “You can’t resist my bare feet…” 

“This is so embarrassing,” Rodney said, closing his eyes. 

John laughed softly, then relented. “Come on, let’s go to sleep. We’re both tired and we have a lot to do over the next week before we can go home.” 

Rodney looked up at that, then smiled. “Home,” he said softly. “Yeah… okay. I can do that.” 

John shucked off his BDUs and got into bed, watching as Rodney sat down on the other side and shifted to lie down. He turned to John in surprise. “Is this an orthopedic mattress?” 

“Well, it’ll provide firm back support, if that’s what you mean,” John drawled casually as he pulled the covers up. “Night, Rodney.” 

Rodney was quiet, then he said, “Night, John,” and John felt him shift before settling down. He waited until he heard the other man’s breathing slow, then turned over and wrapped his arm around him, pulling him close. Rodney sighed in his sleep and relaxed into him. 

Smiling to himself, John closed his own eyes and settled into sleep. 

 

 

 

“Teyla, I know you’re busy, but could I speak with you for a minute?” 

Teyla looked up from her laptop where she was going over the training schedules for the new arrivals among the military. They all needed to learn better methods of hand to hand, and alternatives to using a rifle if they ran out of ammunition or it was taken away. Mostly, they needed to learn how to _stay alive_. The anxious look in Chuck’s eyes, though, made her put her laptop away and focus her attention on him. “Certainly, Chuck. What can I help you with?” 

He flushed but came to sit down in one of the comfortable chairs she kept in her office. Woolsey had insisted Teyla be given an office and had tried to furnish it “as befitting the second in command of the civilian half of this expedition,” as he’d put it, but Teyla had refused, choosing instead to furnish it with an Athosian flavor. Therefore, the atmosphere of Teyla’s office was calm and relaxing, with comfortable chairs and smooth wood tables in small groupings. 

Chuck cleared his throat, and Teyla smiled apologetically for letting her thoughts wander. “Go ahead, Chuck.” 

He smiled nervously. “I was… well, I need your advice.” 

“Then you shall have it,” she said gravely. 

“Thanks,” he said, and bit his lip before plunging into what was bothering him. “It’s… my brother. See, our parents are dead, killed by a drunk driver right after I got out of boot camp eight years ago, and… well, while I was stationed in Colorado, Toby lived with me. He’s ten years younger than me, you see, so he’s sixteen now.” 

“I see,” said Teyla encouragingly. 

“Yeah, well, when I was sent to Antarctica, he went to live with our aunt and uncle, my mom’s sister and her husband and… while they’re good to him, they’re… well, he’s not their kid, and they never wanted to have kids, so… they’re kind of… distant with him, you know?” Chuck looked extremely uncomfortable. “I felt really guilty leaving him with them when I went to Atlantis, but I told myself at the time that… it was for the best, and that I was barely more than a kid myself so… you know… ” He cleared his throat. “Besides, the money I was making was going into a trust fund for him, because he’s _really_ smart, and… and I wanted to be sure he would be able to go to college. My aunt and uncle couldn’t touch the money, and I set it up so he’d either get it when he was accepted to college or when he turned 21.” 

“I do understand,” said Teyla, watching him. “You were taking care of him the best way you knew how.” She didn’t comment on how smart he was, as well. 

“Yeah,” said Chuck, and she noticed he was wringing his fingers together, though she didn’t bring his attention to it. “Well, I was… emailing him twice a week once we re-established a connection with Earth, and I visited him whenever I had leave on Earth. And we’ve been spending time together since getting back, and… I knew he was… unhappy but… I was … I was going to leave him here because… you know… he needs to finish high school and…” He stopped, his lips pressed tightly together. 

“And now you’ve changed your mind?” Teyla said softly. She reached forward when he nodded sharply and laid a light hand on his arm. “There is nothing wrong with that, Chuck. You were trying to do your best by your brother, and it’s natural to want him with you now…” 

“That’s the thing, Teyla,” Chuck said, his cheeks red now, and Teyla realized that whatever it was that was bothering him, it wasn’t necessarily his wanting his brother to come along. “It’s… stupid, really, but… I’ve been having these… dreams…” 

“Dreams?” She sat back and watched him keenly. “What kind of dreams?” 

“That’s the thing, I can’t exactly remember,” Chuck said, brow creasing in distress. “I just… I just know I can’t leave Toby here. I can’t leave him on Earth because it’s… he’ll _die_ , Teyla! He’ll die because he’s _brilliant_ , and they’ll kill him for it!” 

“Who, Chuck? Who will kill him for it?” This was the closest she’d gotten in all the people she’d talked to about this. 

“ _They_ will,” Chuck said, his eyes wide and blank now as he sat still, staring at something only he could see. “ _They_ will kill him because he’s smart enough to figure it out. They’ll do it when they come…” 

“When will they come, Chuck?” She gripped his arm firmly. “When will they come?” 

He turned his head to stare at her, though he clearly didn’t see her. “Soon,” he whispered. “They’re coming soon.” He blinked and shuddered. “Please, Teyla, I have to bring my brother… what? What is it?” 

He had no memory of what he’d said, Teyla realized, feeling a little unnerved. “Of course, Chuck. We will speak to Mr. Woolsey about making arrangements…” 

“My aunt and uncle will fight this, you know,” Chuck said, standing slowly. “They may not have wanted kids, but they do feel responsible…” 

“Maybe you should consider inviting them as well?” she asked lightly and frowned when she shuddered. “Chuck?” 

“It’s not safe,” he said quietly. “It’s not safe to bring them…” then he sat up straight, his eyes going wide. “Teyla… I need to get Toby _now!_ ” 

Teyla studied the suddenly panicked look on his face, then touched her radio. “Colonel Sheppard?” 

“Sheppard here,” came the immediate reply. “Go ahead, Teyla.” 

“Colonel Sheppard, we need to arrange an emergency extraction for Tech Specialist Taylor’s younger brother. As soon as possible. Toby Taylor may be in immediate danger,” she said quickly and blessed the Ancestors that John trusted her so much because he didn’t even hesitate. 

“You and Chuck meet me at Jumper One, I’ve already got a squad mobilized and heading that way, Sheppard out.” 

Chuck nearly sagged with relief. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Teyla, but… something’s going on with Toby and… I can _feel_ that he needs me…” He was almost in tears with urgency. 

“Do not worry, Chuck,” she said, squeezing his hand. “Let’s go.” 

As they ran for the transporter that would take them to the Jumper bay, Teyla knew she was going to have to bring John, Rodney, Carson, and the rest of the command staff together to discuss the meaning of the dreams so many members of the expedition were having. And possibly bring in General O’Neill to find out if any of the members of the SGC were having similar dreams. Because this felt like only the tip of the iceberg. 

 

 

 

It was one of the more isolated houses in a semi-affluent neighborhood, a nice two story with gardens and trees. There wasn’t much about it that said, “kids,” to the casual observer, and if asked, the neighbors would say they knew a teenager lived there with his aunt and uncle, but was mostly a quiet kid, never in trouble, etc, etc. 

Until now. 

Toby Taylor was in his room, stuffing clothes into his backpack, along with the small photo album his brother, Chuck, had given him with photos of their parents, their house, and of them as kids. He shoved his laptop into a protected pocket, and stuffed his iPod in next to it, then grabbed an extra pair of shoes, adding them as well as he kept an ear on the argument going on downstairs. 

Aunt Mary and Uncle Howard weren’t bad. In fact, they’d been kind of okay mostly. The main problem was that Aunt Mary didn’t really like kids, though she’d done her best for him, because she really did love her sister, and in her own way, she’d loved him and Chuck. She just didn’t want to have to raise them, and before Chuck had got sent off to Antarctica, it hadn’t been a problem. Aunt Mary had babysat Toby when Chuck had late duty, or had to go to seminars, and that had been fine. But when he’d had to go to Antarctica, and then off on that secret mission, well… that had been different. 

Uncle Howard had been cool, though. He took Toby on trips, or to sporting events, and had been like an uncle, rather than a replacement dad, which Toby appreciated. And Aunt Mary had sometimes done special things for him at random, which made it all the cooler, really, like making him his favorite cake just because, not because it was his birthday, or he’d come home from school and a t-shirt from his favorite show would be on his bed, because she happened to see it while out shopping for something else and thought he’d like it. 

They’d all come to an accommodation when Aunt Mary had decided to treat him like a miniature adult rather than a kid. Which had been… okay. He did his chores and his homework, they fed him and clothed him and treated him with a distant sort of affection… until the hormones kicked in and he became a teenager. A _really smart_ teenager. 

But even that wasn’t so bad, and things had settled down… until about six months ago, and that was when everything changed. 

They weren’t mean to him, but…they weren’t particularly nice to him either. They’d become… strange, and he wasn’t sure what to make of the bizarre rules they’d started imposing on him. No more after-school activities, no hanging out with friends, come straight home after school. No going to see movies or to a game with friends, no going to the library even for homework unless Uncle Howard or Aunt Mary could accompany him… he was _sixteen years old_ , for Christ’s sake! 

“I told you, Mary, he’s become more rebellious and harder to handle! We have to do something!” 

“It’s too drastic, Howard, and you _know_ we were told he couldn’t have the implant until he’s at least seventeen!” Aunt Mary shouted. “He’s only just turned sixteen!” 

“And what will they do to us if he gets away, Mary? Do you want to risk that? Even now, he’s planning to run away from us!” 

Toby froze in the middle of tying his shoes. How the hell… 

_“Pssst, Toby!!”_

Toby stiffened. That sounded like Chuck! He turned and looked at his window and was stunned to see his brother crouched there, one hand held out to him. “Chuck?” 

“Hurry, they’re about to notice I’m here,” he said, flicking his fingers at Toby in urgency. “You have to get out of here!” 

Toby only hesitated for the briefest of seconds before he snatched up his backpack and his jacket, then leaped to the window, grabbing his brother’s warm hand and gripping it firmly. “Get me out of here!” he whispered. 

“You got it,” said Chuck with a grin, and he pulled Toby through the window and out on the roof. “Okay, walk as quietly as you can. The Colonel parked the Jumper as close as he dared…” 

“Jumper?” What the hell? And he nearly yelped when two shapes loomed out of the shadow of the trees that overhung the roof, but Chuck had expected it and clamped a firm hand over his mouth. 

“Shhhh… they’re Marines, and they’re here to help us,” Chuck said, handing Toby’s pack to one of them. 

The other Marine grasped Toby firmly and said, “I’m going to hand you down to one of our guys, okay? Go limp.” 

“Got it,” Toby said and let himself be lowered to a pair of waiting hands down below. Then he was being run across the back lawn toward the darkest corner when all of a sudden, the entire yard lit up. 

“There he is!” shouted a voice that wasn’t his uncle’s. 

The soldier that was holding on to him didn’t let him hesitate, though, keeping him running toward that corner while Mary shouted, “Chuck! Chuck, where are you taking Toby? You can’t take him, Chuck!!” 

“He’s my brother!” Chuck shouted back, “and I’m not leaving him!” 

Shots rang out, and Toby started to turn, but the Marine said, “Keep running, kid, Chuck’s okay.” 

Next thing he knew, there was a woman there, holding out her hands. “Welcome, Toby,” she said, pulling him into a vehicle. “You are safe now. And see, here is Chuck.” 

He turned to see Chuck coming in, and the next thing he knew, Chuck was grabbing him and patting him down. “You okay? You didn’t get hit, did you? Did they hurt you?” 

“No, no, I’m okay, I’m okay,” Toby said, nearly collapsing with relief. “They didn’t hurt me much, I’m okay…” 

“Much?” Chuck’s face went bleak. 

“No time,” said another man from the front of the vehicle they were in. “Buckle in, Chuck, we need to leave _now_.” 

Chuck nodded and pushed Toby down into a seat, where he was buckled in, and sat down next to him. He grabbed Toby’s hand and Toby hung on, not too embarrassed, even if he was sixteen years old. He was scared, and this was all so weird and sudden. The shock started settling in and he began to shake, and Chuck put an arm around him, holding him close. “It’s okay, Toby,” he said, rubbing Toby’s head and messing up his hair. “You’re okay now.” 

“Yeah,” said Toby, closing his eyes and relaxing into his brother. “I’m okay now.” 

 


	14. Plots and Dreams and First Steps...

 

“So far, at least 26 people have come to me directly about having very troubling dreams,” said Teyla from her seat at the head of the table. Richard had deferred his usual seat to her since she was the one who had called the meeting, and he watched her fold her hands calmly. “I’ve had ten more… hint… about similar dreams, and have had secondary reports of about twice that many having dreams that they don’t want to talk about. One thing they all have in common, however, is that each one has insisted on having one or more members of their immediate blood family, or sometimes a close friend who is like family, come to live with them here on the city. And they all feel that something… terrible… is coming.” 

Richard watched the faces of what he now considered the inner circle of Atlantis absorb that. He wondered if they’d been having the dreams, and if that was the reason he sometimes woke up, heart pounding and drenched in sweat but completely unable to remember _why_. He cleared his throat. “I have been hearing this as well,” he said, calling up his notes on his laptop and comparing them with Teyla’s. “In fact, I think I can add about five people to your list. None of them are the type to let their…imaginations run away with them. And had I not spent time in Pegasus, I might be inclined to dismiss their concerns as… fatigue or… mental exhaustion. However,” and he smiled grimly at them all as they nodded their understanding, “I have since learned not to dismiss things of this nature. And the fact that more than one person is experiencing this… phenomenon says we should perhaps pay attention.” 

“I agree,” said Teyla firmly. “And that is why I spoke to General O’Neill and Dr. Jackson at the SGC, as well as Dr. Lam.” 

“And it’s why we’re here, too,” said a voice from the door, and they looked up to find the three people in question coming in. O’Neill nodded at everyone as space was made for them to sit down. “Daniel has something interesting for us. Daniel?” 

Dr. Jackson cleared his throat and looked around the table uncertainly for a moment before nodding. “I’ve been… having the dreams, too, and… so apparently have quite a few people in the SGC. And the consensus, after talking to as many of them as possible before coming here, is that there are three main points. One, something is coming, something big, and something… bad. Two, we have no idea who it is, or what, but there is a possibility that they, whoever they are, may already be here, at least in a somewhat… limited fashion. And three,” he said, holding up a hand to stop any interruptions, “three… it will be soon.” 

There was silence around the conference room as everyone absorbed this. It wasn’t much more than they had already learned from Toby Taylor, but somehow, having Dr. Jackson say it in his calm, professional voice made it more real. 

Richard cleared his throat and met Dr. Jackson’s calm gaze. “You say you’ve had these dreams as well? What do you remember?” 

“Not much.” Jackson’s eyes went distant for a moment. “A sense of urgency, there’s something that I have to do, I have to finish, people I have to see to safety. A feeling of… pressure, physical pressure, like I’m being pushed to the ground by… very heavy gravity. And that there isn’t a lot of time to finish… whatever it is I need to finish.” He blinked, then shrugged. “It’s… frustrating. Because my dreams are usually more lucid than that.” 

“Aren’t they just,” O’Neill muttered, and Jackson elbowed him sharply. “Ow.” 

Ignoring the byplay, Richard looked at the report of Toby’s debriefing and said, “Does anyone have any ideas on what sort of… implant Toby Tyler’s aunt and uncle were talking about? And what it’s purpose might be?” 

“Control,” said Jackson, Lorne, Dr. Beckett, and Ronon immediately, and they all looked at each other, startled. 

“Uh, how did we…?” began Jackson, and Ronon snorted. 

“We’re all having the dreams, obviously,” the Satedan said, shaking his head. He looked around the table. “Who else here has had these dreams?” 

Richard sighed and McKay slowly raised his hand. Teyla frowned. “You have been having these dreams, Rodney? Richard? Why did you not say anything to me?” 

McKay shrugged. “I haven’t had them often, and I don’t get to… finish them, really. Hello, barely managing three hours of sleep at a time?” He shrugged. “I just sort of chalked it all up to anxiety about getting everything finished so we could leave, and the looming deadline of our departure. In other words, I just figured they were my usual anxiety dreams, just… sort of ramped up.” 

“You didn’t dream last night,” said Sheppard. 

McKay blushed. “I… slept better last night than I have in a while, thanks.” 

Richard wasn’t sure how to interpret the smug look Sheppard had on his face, and catalogued it to ponder later, picking up his water to take a sip. “I haven’t had more than two to three hours of sleep a night in the last week and a half myself, so when I do dream, well… I just chalked it up to inadequate sleep. I do have a tendency toward… anxiety, from time to time.” 

“I think,” said Dr. Lam, leaning forward to catch their attention, “that it might be beneficial to try hypnosis. If we can induce an… aware dream state, we might be able to ask questions and learn more about what is going on, who’s behind it, and maybe get an idea of what we’re dealing with.” 

“Or we might alert whatever… or whoever… this is that we’re on to them, and cause them to speed up their plans,” said Sheppard reasonably. 

“That _is_ a risk,” said Dr. Lam, “but we need more information.” 

“Dr. Lam has a point,” said General O’Neill. “Carter is already talking to SGC teams as they come in, to see if any of _them_ have been dreaming and will have a report for us after the last one comes through the gate. After that, we’re suspending gate operations for the rest of the day. Dr. Beckett, Teyla, I’d like the two of you to consult with Dr. Lam on possible subjects for hypnosis and get the infirmary set up for it. I would suggest the isolation room, if you want my opinion. Just, you know… in case.” 

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” said Richard, realizing this was General O’Neill’s way of saying the meeting was over. “Colonel Lorne, it might be a good idea for you to interview the military personnel and find out how many of them have had these dreams, and how much they remember, then send them to the infirmary for evaluation.” 

“Yes, Mr. Woolsey,” said Lorne, and with a quick salute to the General and to his own C.O., he left. 

As everyone left for their separate tasks, O’Neill said, “Sheppard, McKay, Mr. Woolsey, please stay behind.” His hand was on Daniel’s shoulder, so there was no question of the archaeologist leaving. As soon as the last person left, the doors closed and O’Neill sat down again, motioning for the others to sit close by. 

“Can we get on with this, I have a lot of work to do in the lab,” said McKay. 

“Yes, Dr. McKay, I know, but this is important.” He waited until the scientist was seated then pulled several thumb drives out of his pocket, which he handed to each of them. “When General Hammond summoned me back to the SGC, and we started exploring in earnest through the Stargate, we realized that there may come a time when we run across an enemy so much more powerful than us that the idea of fighting back is laughable. General Hammond believed in hedging his bets and so we sat down and worked out a plan, one that we’d refined over the years. After what happened with the Ori, that plan got ramped up, and this latest incident with the Wraith has convinced me, and the President as well, that just having the Alpha site isn’t enough. So, gentlemen,” he said, pulling out another thumbdrive and nodding to Jackson to pull a laptop out of the messenger bag he’d never taken off his shoulder. It was set up, and O’Neill plugged in the flash drive and brought images up on the main screen. “Let me introduce you to Operation Bug Out, and the Bolt Hole Contingency.” 

 

 

 

Jack watched their faces as they took in the outlines of both plans. He’d hoped like hell to never have to use this. He knew Hammond had hoped like hell during his tenure he’d never have to implement it, though they’d come terribly close more times than Jack ever wanted to admit. It was completely fucked that _he_ was the one having to utilize this, but if they were to have a snowball’s chance in hell of surviving… 

“Sir,” said John slowly with a frown, “is… this why those warehouses out on the east and north piers were repaired and seem to be… full?” 

“Yes,” said Jack. “It’s why both _Daedelus_ and _Apollo_ have been beaming in supplies and materials for the last two weeks almost nonstop. It’s why you have more ordnance than is actually on the books.” He sighed and rubbed his forehead, wishing he had a cup of coffee to prop up his sagging energies. Dammit, he wasn’t young any more, and he needed his sleep. _You can sleep when you’re dead_ , some extremely cynical part of his brain said, and he told it to fuck off and shut up. “It’s entirely possible we’re looking at another foothold situation, that we’ve already been invaded and what happened with Sgt. Taylor’s brother is our first _official_ inkling of it.” 

“Official?” Richard said with a frown. 

Of course, Richard would catch his wording. “Unofficially, there have been some… anomalies that are just a little too… coincidental. Early warning beacons in certain sectors going silent for just a few seconds, seemingly at random until you look at the pattern of it. Members of three SG teams going missing for twenty four hours and then turning up in hotel rooms with all the signs of having a one night stand… except that’s something either completely inconsistent with their personalities, or incompatible with physical evidence.” He grimaced. “In two instances, Dr. Lam found implants of an odd… plastic like material, inserted just within the hairline on the back of their necks. The others were checked, but no implants were found. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the ones who had the implants were the last two who were taken.” 

“May I see the implants?” McKay looked fierce. “I may be able to discover something…” 

“Fine,” said Jack, “but not here. I don’t want them on Atlantis. You’ll go to the SGC, and you’ll beam from Atlantis to the SGC and back. I don’t want to risk you being taken.” 

McKay’s mouth dropped open in shock. “You don’t think…” 

“I’m not taking any chances with your big brain, McKay,” Jack said sternly. “Same goes for Carter and Daniel, here. They haven’t left the mountain in weeks.” He cleared his throat. “Here’s the other part of the plan. When Atlantis leaves, not only are you taking the family members of everyone on the city, but… you’ll be taking the family members of everyone in the SGC, as well as certain people that are… valuable to… humanity’s continued existence.” 

He watched their faces pale, watched the way John’s hand suddenly closed around McKay’s wrist and the way the scientist reached up to grasp John’s arm. Richard swallowed hard. “That bad, Jack?” he said slowly. 

“That bad.” Jack nodded. “We don’t know who they are, or what they are. But they are coming, and Dr. Lam’s right, the more intel we can get, the better. The problem is… what little we _do_ know is… disturbing.” 

“How much more disturbing can this get?” McKay demanded. 

Daniel lifted his hands, then set them down before turning to face Rodney. “We think… we think it has to do with the Trust.” 

“The Trust? But… I thought they were gone!” said McKay, his eyes wide. “I mean, you killed Ba’al, right? So… no more System Lords… no more Trust!” 

“It’s… not that simple, Rodney,” said Daniel sadly, and he pushed his glasses up on his nose before laying his hands on the table. “You see, we long suspected that there was something… else… behind the Trust, something older and…darker, before Kinsey, before the Goa’uld ever got involved. In fact, I suspect the Goa’uld were a… distraction to keep us from getting to the truth.” He laughed ruefully. “It certainly kept us busy and focused on anything but digging any deeper into the Trust’s roots.” 

“Do you think it’s the Ori?” asked Richard almost nervously, but Daniel shook his head. 

“No. In fact, I think the Ori’s incursion into our galaxy actually interfered in… whoever’s… plans. They backed off. But… now the Ori are gone and… this other is… back.” Daniel grimaced. “Whatever it is… it doesn’t look good.” 

“The main point is,” said Jack before anyone else could get too spooked, “is that we’re sending people with you for safety’s sake.” 

“Well, the situation is pretty grim when you consider Pegasus and the Wraith to be _safer_ than the Milky Way,” said Richard grimly. 

“Tell me about it,” said Jack. He sighed. “And if worst comes to worst, we have a plan set up to evacuate as many people as possible to Atlantis. We’ll shove as many as we can through the Stargate, cram ‘em onto our ships and send them through hyperspace, or gate them to the far edge of the Milky Way and have them gate to Pegasus from there.” He met John’s eyes. “And the last people through the Stargate will set it to blow after they’re through it.” 

John’s eyes widened as he realized what Jack was saying. One way trip, indeed. 

“Understood, sir,” he said, and that was that. 

 

 

 

There was no possible way Rodney was going to be able to concentrate on his work now. His body literally _vibrated_ with stress, and terror, and anxiety, and adrenaline, and it all had absolutely nowhere to go. 

Fortunately, John seemed to know exactly what to do, because he took Rodney’s arm in a firm grip and walked him to the nearest transporter. “Lorne,” he said into his radio as he steered Rodney into the little cabin, “anything on my schedule for the next two hours?” 

“No, sir, you were actually scheduled for some down time for the next four,” came the reply. 

“Good. I’m going off radio, and so is Dr. McKay.” 

“Anything I need to be concerned about, sir?” 

John kept a firm grip on Rodney’s arm as he pressed the section of the city where his quarters were. “Nope. Sheppard out.” 

“Where are we going?” Rodney asked, hating the tremble in his voice. 

“You’ll see,” said John and he led Rodney out of the transporter, nodding at the people they passed, none of whom seemed to think it odd that John was practically manhandling Rodney down the hall. 

Of course, it wasn’t that unusual a sight, when Rodney thought about it. In fact, now that he actually _was_ thinking about it, John touched him a lot. He usually had a grasp on Rodney’s arm or shoulder when they walked, especially if they were in a hurry or it was urgent. Or a hand on his back. And it wasn’t that his grip now hurt. It was firm, not hard. Just enough of a grip that Rodney knew he wasn’t going to be able to pull away easily, and for some reason, that settled him. It was familiar and comforting, and didn’t that say things about Rodney that he didn’t want to think into too deeply? 

The door of John’s quarters opened as they approached and closed silently behind them once they were inside, though Rodney heard the unmistakable sound of them locking a bare second later. “John?” 

“Shhhh,” said John, pulling him around to face him. “You’re going to jitter yourself to pieces if you’re not careful.” 

“John, we’ve got an unknown enemy that’s probably already invaded Earth, our home and you’re worried about me _jittering?_ ” Rodney all but shouted. 

“Rodney?” John’s hands were on his face, and he found himself having to look into John’s eyes. 

“Y-yes, John?” 

“It’s going to be okay,” John said calmly. “We’ll get through this. Just like we always have. As long as we’re together, we’ll be just fine.” One hand slid down to stroke his throat gently, and Rodney found his eyes closing. 

“How… how do you know that?” John’s breath was warm against his face. 

“Because we’ve done some pretty amazing things together, Rodney,” John said, his voice now in Rodney’s ear, and he felt John removing his earwig. “We’ve always come through whatever faces us, and we’ve done it together. I have every confidence that we can do it again.” Lips touched his forehead, then his eyelid, his cheek, his nose… 

“John?” 

“Mmmm?” His other eye was kissed, his temple, his jaw… 

“Are you kissing me?” 

A slow chuckle. “If you have to ask, I’m obviously not doing it right.” 

He opened his eyes and found John smiling at him. “What… what are we doing?” 

John smiled. “Rodney, you don’t have to be in control every single minute of the day. Do you?” 

“I… yes. Yes, I do.” He took in the look in John’s eyes. “Don’t I?” 

“No,” said John, drawing him deeper into the room, then pushing him down into a chair. “You don’t. Right now, you’re scared because you don’t know what’s going on. You can’t do anything to control this situation, because you don’t have any information beyond some nebulous hints…” He knelt down and started working on one of Rodney’s boots. 

“Is this supposed to be _helping??_ ” Rodney asked, his heart rate leaping. 

“Let go, Rodney,” John said as he pulled the boot off and started working on the other one. 

“Well, it’s not like I’m hanging on to my boots with my _toes_ , John,” he said crankily, wondering where the hell this was going. 

John smiled and pulled the other boot off before reaching up to unbuckle Rodney’s belt. “Whoa, wait, what are you doing?” Rodney caught John’s hands, staring into John’s eyes anxiously, searching for clues. 

John watched him calmly. “Let go, Rodney,” he said, evading Rodney’s hands easily and unbuckling his belt deftly before unbuttoning his BDUs. 

“Of… of what?” He yelped when John started tugging them down. “John, what…” 

“Let go of your control, Rodney,” John said calmly and slid the dark pants the rest of the way off. “You can’t control what’s happening outside, so… stop.” 

“I don’t seem to be able to control what’s happening inside, either,” grumbled Rodney as John tugged at his shirt. 

“No,” John agreed with a smile. “You’re giving it to me.” 

“I am?” 

“Yes.” John pulled his shirt off and Rodney curled self-consciously into himself in the chair, feeling oddly naked sitting there in only his boxers. John smiled as he put Rodney’s shirt on the desk with the rest of his clothes, then slid his hands up Rodney’s bare thighs before wrapping his arms around Rodney’s hips. “You are. You always have, Rodney, even when you didn’t know you were doing it. You’ve always let me have control.” 

His mouth fell open as a hundred different scenarios came together in his mind, and fell into a pattern that suddenly made sense. John was always the one who could get him to calm down, who could get him to focus… it was after arguing with John that he’d suddenly realize something, or an idea would come to him. “I… I have, haven’t I?” 

“Mmmm-hmmmm,” said John, nuzzling under his chin. “But now, you’re aware of it. So…” 

“So…?” He shivered as John’s mouth found his neck. 

“So I’m taking control, Rodney, and I’m going to take care of you. I’m going to take you out of your head so you can focus. So you can relax.” 

John’s mouth covered his, and Rodney opened without question, his eyes closing as he gripped John’s shirt in both hands. God, this was like… like… like home. This taste was…what he’d been searching for his whole life… no, no, that was too corny, he thought to himself as John’s tongue coiled around his. But he’d never forget it. Ever. And now that he had it, he’d never give it up. 

“Hmmmm,” John hummed into his mouth and pulled back to look at him, his green eyes intense. “You’re thinking too much…” 

“Can’t… help it… busy mind,” Rodney said, panting softly. 

“I know.” John kissed him softly, then stood up, pulling Rodney to his feet. He grabbed one of the big cushions off the bed and drew Rodney with him to the easy chair he’d bought, dropping the cushion on the floor next to it. “Kneel,” John said gently. 

“What?” Rodney stared at the pillow. “What, I don’t get a chair?” 

“Trust me?” John’s eyes gleamed with challenge, and Rodney caught his breath. 

He swallowed hard. “Yeah,” he said, staring back, thinking _I trust you forever, to hell and back_. “Yeah, I trust you, John.” 

John sat down in the chair and tugged gently on Rodney’s hand. “Then kneel right here, facing me, Rodney.” 

He should be embarrassed, standing in nothing but his boxers, and very thin, flimsy boxers at that. He had no doubts that John was quite aware of the erection tenting his boxers, since they hid nothing, but there was nothing he could do about it. And that was when it clicked in his head. 

There was nothing he could do about it. He didn’t _have_ to do anything about it. Because he was with John, and it was okay. John knew. John understood. And John would take care of him, like he always did, because… John loved him, and would always take care of him. Just like he always took care of John. 

He knelt, his eyes wide as he stared up at John, at the slow smile curving John’s mouth, a mouth he had enjoyed kissing. John positioned him close, then said, “Lay your head here, on my thigh… that’s right, just like that.” John’s hand on the side of his head positioned him. “Now, just… lean against me. Relax… there, that’s it… now close your eyes, Rodney, and just be.” 

“Just… be?” A little bubble of semi-hysterical laughter threatened to overcome his control. 

John’s hand started stroking his hair, and for some reason, that settled him. “Just be, Rodney. Slow deep breaths, and just be.” He heard John pick up a book, probably _War and Peace_ , heard a page turn. John’s nimble fingers carded through his hair gently, tips rubbing his scalp, and rubbing over the edge of his ear, relaxing him. It was as if all the tension in his body was slowly draining out, all the noise and thoughts racing through his head went quiet. All that was left was this, the feel of John’s muscled thigh under his cheek, the fingers moving through his hair and over his cheek and forehead, the slow turning of a page, and the calming beat of his own heart. 

Letting go to just be. Maybe he could do this after all. 

 


	15. Falling...

 

If anyone had told Rodney McKay that it was possible for him to sit still for one hour, he would have told them they were mental. If they’d told him he’d be able to sit still for an hour _and be quiet, too_ , he’d have simply called Medical and told them there was a basket case waiting for delivery in his office. 

But he was actually surprised when John’s hand, which had been moving gently and reassuringly over his head, his neck, and his shoulders, stopped and gripped his shoulder firmly. “Rodney,” John said softly but firmly. 

“Mmmmm?” He wasn’t sure where this place was, but it was really nice. It was quiet, it was warm, it was comfort, love, and a calm peacefulness he’d rarely experienced as an adult. And he wasn’t eager to leave it. 

“Come on, buddy… come back to me…” 

What was John talking about? He frowned and wiggled his nose, snuggling in closer to John’s leg, his arms wrapped loosely around John’s calf, and… that made his eyes snap open. 

John’s hand was rubbing slow circles into his back. “That’s it, slow deep breaths, Rodney, don’t tense up on me…” 

Rodney yawned as he sat up and looked around. “Did I take a nap?” And why was he half kneeling, half on his hip on a cushion by John’s feet? 

“Not exactly.” There was amusement in John’s voice, and Rodney looked up at him, then blinked in surprise. John looked more relaxed than Rodney had seen him in some time. “How do you feel?” 

“Uh… actually… I feel… good.” And it was amazing. He did. He felt… rested. Centered. 

“That’s good.” John put his book down. “Can you stand?” 

“Huh… dunno.” He wasn’t sure if his legs had gone to sleep or not, though the fact that he was not quite kneeling might have helped. 

“Give it a try.” John held out a hand and Rodney took it and stood awkwardly, nearly stumbling, but John’s hand on his hip steadied him. John stood and pulled him close. “I like seeing you like this.” 

“What, clumsy and nearly falling on my ass?” He felt himself blushing at the way John was looking at him, like Rodney was his favorite thing in the whole world. 

“No. Relaxed. Calm. Blissed out.” John kissed the corner of his mouth, his hands moving on Rodney’s bare back, and Rodney couldn’t help moaning as he pressed himself closer, the buttons of John’s shirt pressing into the skin of his chest and stomach. John kissed him, kissed him slowly and leisurely, as if he had nothing better to do than stand here with a nearly naked Rodney, kissing him and caressing him with light, firm hands. Like he had all the time in the world, and Rodney was his to… 

Rodney’s eyes opened. “Why am I the one standing here with no clothes on except my boxers, and you’re fully dressed?” he complained. 

John smirked. “Because you gave me the control.” He slipped his hands into the waistband of the boxers, caressing Rodney’s flanks as he pushed the boxers down. “And I’m keeping it for now.” 

“J-John,” Rodney said, shivering when he realized how hard he was, and that John would see, John would _know_ , and then he became aware of an answering hardness wrapped in broadcloth pressed against his. 

John knew. And John was just fine with it. obviously, to the point that he pushed the boxers completely off and they fell in a shapeless muddle around his ankles. He whimpered as John’s hands slid around and gripped his bottom, squeezing and to his shock, he felt John tremble. 

“John?” 

“You have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that, Rodney?” John asked in a breathless voice. “All the times I’ve literally been face to face with your ass, and I couldn’t touch it, and oh, fuck, did I want to!” 

“You… you did?” His cock twitched and he bit back a moan as John rolled his hips against him, rough fabric rubbing him in the most delightful of ways. 

“Oh, yeah,” and John nipped at his jaw, squeezing again, and Rodney found himself gripping handfuls of John’s shirt again, hanging on because his knees were threatening to buckle at all the stimulation. “Best ass on Atlantis,” John breathed against his neck. 

“Huh… what do you know about that?” He was babbling, he _knew_ he was babbling, and was completely helpless to stop it. “I… I would have thought Tey… Teyla had… had th-the best… ass on… on Atlantis… oh! Oh, God, do that again!” 

“Nope,” said John, wicked fingers venturing more boldly and Rodney became aware he was being walked backward. “Teyla has nothing on your ass, Rodney.” He sucked at Rodney’s neck, and the next thing he knew, he was falling backward onto John’s bed. 

John smirked down at him. “Right where I want you,” he said, and dove in. 

 

 

 

There were only a few times in his life that John could say he’d gotten what he wanted. There was the year he’d gotten the exact bike he’d wanted, a Murray X24 BMX bike in blue, with checkerboard pads and a silver frame. He’d ridden the tar out of that bike, ripping up and down the hills behind the house with his brother and their friends for hours and hours that summer. It was the closest to flying a ten year old could get, back then. He rode that bike until it fell apart and he mourned it, as boys do, until something else took its place. 

There was the time the prettiest girl in high school took him by the hand and led him out back behind the stadium while everybody else was at the homecoming dance. She led him out under the bleachers, then put his hand in the star quarterback’s hand, smiled at them both, then went to stand guard while Jay “The J-Man” Reed went down on his knees and showed John how much he liked cock, and how much he liked John’s cock in particular. Which made John both happy and forever grateful that the prettiest girl in high school was his best friend. 

There was the day, after graduating from Stanford with a degree in Applied Mathematics (a fact that made his father grind his teeth in frustration as he tried to push John toward business administration), and after passing all the tests required to get into the Air Force’s Officer Training School, and after breaking all the records and passing all the requirements, he got exactly what he wanted. The sky. He already knew how to fly, but on that day, he knew he was going to _fly_. 

There were plenty of other times when John didn’t get what he wanted, when what he got was so far from what he wanted that it wasn’t even worth remembering. But today, as he stood over his bed and looked at Rodney McKay spread out over the covers looking like all his Christmases had come at once, John could say that he had not only gotten exactly what he wanted… he had gotten precisely what he needed. 

He crawled over Rodney’s supine body and pressed himself into him, sliding his hands up to grip Rodney’s wrists and hold them down as he kissed him hungrily, and the moan Rodney made went straight to John’s cock. The way Rodney relaxed under him, wrapping his legs around John… John moaned into the wide, generous mouth and kissed his way down Rodney’s throat, throwing in little bites and nips just to hear Rodney whimper. 

“Yes, yes,” he murmured into Rodney’s skin, licking across a nipple as the man arched under him. “Give it all to me, Rodney, all of you…” 

“John… John, please… want to… touch you…” Rodney whispered. “Want your skin… John, please…” 

He sucked at the nipple under his mouth and listened to Rodney squeak before he sat up, letting go of Rodney’s wrists and stroking across his chest. “You want my skin?” 

“Yeah,” said Rodney, looking up at him, pupils completely blown. “I want your skin, John… want to feel it against mine… under my hands…” 

John smirked, then unbuttoned his shirt slowly while Rodney watched avidly, licking his lips. He pushed the shirt off, then pulled off his tee and Rodney’s hands came up to run through the crisp black curls on his chest and belly. “Like it?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Rodney said softly. “Yeah, I like it.” His hands slipped down lower and started tugging at John’s belt, and John watched for a moment before taking over. 

“Slow down,” John said. “We’ll get there.” 

“I”m likely to implode before that happens,” said Rodney, though he stopped trying to help after a raised eyebrow from John. “Aw, come on, John, you know an emergency is likely to hap…” John clamped a firm hand over his mouth. 

“Shhhhh,” he said softly. “Let go and just be.” 

Rodney nodded slowly, and John lifted his hand and went back to stripping off the rest of his clothing. 

Rodney’s eyes moved over his body eagerly, and judging by the twitch of the cock under John’s, he liked what he saw. “John,” he murmured, reaching up to stroke John’s stomach again, his hands sliding down John’s hips. “I can’t believe…” 

“All yours, Rodney,” John said, catching his hands and lifting them up to press over his heart. “I’m all yours now. Always have been, actually.” 

Rodney’s breath caught, and his eyes met John’s for a moment. “Yeah,” he said slowly, “you have… haven’t you? Even those times I thought…” 

“Yeah, even then,” said John, and he rolled his hips, his balls rubbing over Rodney’s, and he chuckled when Rodney’s eyes practically rolled back in his head. 

This was going to be good. Wonderful, in fact. He wasn’t going to last, not at all, but that was fine, because they had all the time in the world. They had the rest of their lives, and John was just fine with that. 

 

 

 

Carson Beckett closed the last file and sighed as he leaned back in his chair, looking at his companions, who looked just as exhausted as he felt. “Well? Anything?” 

Carolyn Lam glared at him balefully. “Two candidates. Probably the same as yours.” 

Teyla sighed as she looked up from her files. “Same here. Either Dr. Jackson or Toby Taylor. And truthfully, I am inclined to go with Dr. Jackson simply because he’s an adult. I think Toby has been traumatized enough.” 

“Agreed,” said Carson with a grimace. 

“I don’t know,” said Carolyn thoughtfully. “He’d be more flexible, less preconceived notions…” her voice faded at the looks she was getting from Carson and Teyla. “Okay, you’re right, I was just playing devil’s advocate, but I don’t want to use the kid any more than you do. Not unless we have to.” 

“We should probably do this as soon as possible,” said Carson. “After a good meal for everyone, actually. I don’t think I could possibly focus at the moment.” 

“I agree with you, Doctor,” said Teyla, getting up. “Come, there is time for a late lunch. We should go before they start preparing for the evening meal.” 

Even Carolyn put her files away when Teyla used that tone, Carson thought to himself as he stood and stretched out his back before following them to the mess hall. 

Once they got their food, Teyla looked around and got a slight frown on her face when she spotted only Ronon and Lorne at a far table. She headed that way, and the two doctors followed her like obedient ducklings, an observation that made Carson chuckle to himself. Teyla most likely would not like being compared to a mother duck. 

“Where are Colonel Sheppard and Dr, McKay?” Teyla asked as she set her tray down. 

Ronon looked up from his food, then over at Lorne. Lorne’s lips twitched when Teyla looked at him expectantly, but he contained it and said, “Colonel Sheppard has been off the radio for the past two and a half hours. In another hour and a half, he’ll be back on duty.” 

“Yes, well,” said Lorne, clearing his throat, “I… believe that you will find the Colonel and the Doctor are… ahem… _resting_ together.” 

Carson watched Teyla blink, then a slow smile grew, lighting up her face, her eyes brightening. “Really?” 

“Yes,” said Lorne with an answering grin. “Really.” 

“That is most excellent news,” she said, looking at Ronon. 

Ronon snorted. “About time, if you ask me.” He picked up a roll and bit into it. “They’ve been dancing around each other for years now.” 

Carolyn watched all this with interest and said, “Are you saying that Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay _weren’t_ together before today?” 

“Yes,” said Teyla with a little frown. “Not for the lack of our trying.” 

Carolyn looked shocked. “We always figured they’ve been together since… the first year. I mean, they’re so close.” She looked at Carson, who shook his head, grinning. “Really? They weren’t?” 

“And what do you suppose his dating Dr. Keller was all about?” Carson asked. 

“I thought she was just his beard, because of DADT,” Carolyn said, looking from Carson, to Teyla, to Ronon. “Really?” 

“Really,” said Ronon, picking up his cup to drink from it. “It was sad. I was all for stripping them naked and locking them in a room together, but Teyla said no.” 

“They would not have come together,” Teyla said, shaking her head. “They would have thought they were being kidnapped or the city was in danger, and worked out a way to escape. This was much better.” 

“Yeah, well, I’ve lost the betting pool,” said Carolyn, shaking her head. “How Cam Mitchell knows these things…” 

Lorne nearly blew tea through his nose, and Carson decided it was wiser not to ask. 

 

 

 

“Do you think they’re going to be okay?” 

Jack turned his head to look at Daniel, though they were standing close enough for their shoulders to brush together. “Yeah,” he said finally, studying the somber expression on Daniel’s face as he looked out over the water. “Yeah, I think they’re going to be okay. I mean, hell, I did everything but throw them at each other, you know? You have any idea how many favors I had to collect just to get DOMA overturned?” 

Daniel turned to look up at him and rolled his eyes. “You talked to the president and let him call in the favors, Jack. You forget, I was there.” 

“Trust me,” said Jack, looking back out over the water. “There were favors called. Some of them owed to Hammond, admittedly, but still.” 

Daniel moved closer. “Jack…” 

“Yeah?” 

“DADT is gone…” 

“I know.” He felt Daniel’s chin on his shoulder, felt a hand wrap around his arm. 

“DOMA’s gone.” 

He turned his head slightly to find clear blue eyes fixed on him. “Yup.” 

“Jack, you’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?” 

Jack chuckled and slipped an arm around Daniel’s waist, pulling his Space Monkey closer. “For a guy who’s such an expert on languages, you have an awfully hard time saying things sometimes.” 

“When it’s really important, or… or if it’s going to hurt…” Daniel stopped, his lips pressed tight and he looked away. 

Jack turned to face his Daniel. “You think I did all that just for Sheppard and McKay? Or for all the other LGTB troops out there?” He gave Daniel a little shake. “You don’t think I had a personal stake in it, too?” 

“I never know, Jack,” Daniel said solemnly. 

“Okay, then how’s this for an answer?” He took the kiss he’d been wanting for so very, very long now. After a minute, he tilted his head back to study Daniel’s shocked face. “Well?” 

“Well,” said Daniel licking his lips. “Okay then.” 

“Okay,” said Jack, laughing as he put his arm around his favorite geek in two galaxies, a man who had alternately irritated the crap out of him, terrified him, and impressed the hell out of him, sometimes all in the same day. “Space Monkey,” he murmured in Daniel’s ear. 

Daniel snorted, then leaned into Jack, watching sunlight sparkling on the bay. “Don’t push it, Jack.” 

‘Yeah, okay.” There would be time for that later. 

 

 

 

His body felt heavy and sated. And sticky. Very, very sticky. There was a distant part of him that wanted to be embarrassed that he’d come all over himself like a fifteen year old virgin, but then John had blown barely ten seconds after that. And that was… reassuring. 

A finger traced down his chest, and he opened his eyes to see John watching him. “Much as I’d love to let you sleep,” John said softly, “we have to be up and back on the job in half an hour.” 

Rodney rolled over and pressed his face into John’s chest. “Much rather stay here in your bed with you.” 

“I know. Me, too.” John rubbed his back comfortingly. “But we need to shower and get to work. You need to go to the SGC and look at those implants, and I need to see what Lorne found out.” 

“Are… we going to do this again?” He couldn't help the wistfulness in his voice. 

John’s hand stopped, and Rodney froze, waiting. John pulled back from him and grabbed his chin, tilting his head up to meet his eyes. “Is that what you think? That this is a one off?” 

“I… don’t want it to be,” said Rodney softly. “I hope it isn’t.” 

“It isn’t,” said John firmly. “This is for keeps, Rodney. I’m yours, you’re mine… we’re doing this.” 

Rodney felt as if a weight had lifted off his heart, and he smiled up at John, feeling as if he could face a hundred unseen enemies and defeat them all with one fell stroke of genius. “We’re doing this,” he agreed, reaching up to wrap his hand around the back of John’s head and pull him down for a thorough kiss. 

John groaned, participating willingly until he had to pull away. “At this rate, we’ll be late. And we need to shower. We stink. Seriously.” 

“Take the shower together will save time,” said Rodney, grinning. 

“Yeah… but only if we actually _shower_ …” said John dubiously. 

“Hey, I’m perfectly capable of keeping my hands to myself,” said Rodney, sitting up. 

“Sure you are, Mr. Snatch and Grab, sure you are.” John stood and started walking toward the bathroom, and Rodney heard the shower turn on. “We’ll just see how this goes.” He disappeared through the door. 

“Mr. Snatch and Grab, huh?” said Rodney, standing, though he couldn’t help smiling delightedly to himself. Despite his worries, a small part of him couldn’t help thinking, _Oh, this is going to be SO MUCH FUN!!_

John stuck his head back through the door. “Hey, you coming?” 

“Not yet, but I will be,” Rodney sing-songed as he padded across the floor to the bathroom. “Half an hour, huh? We’ll just see about that.” 

 


	16. Exploratory Dreaming...

 

Daniel laid back nervously on the bed. “You’re sure this isn’t going to… you know… backfire badly?” 

Carolyn arched an eyebrow as she frowned at him. “Really? You’re really gonna ask that? Now?” She finished attaching the last of the leads and looked over to Carson, and sighed when she saw that he, too, was anxious. “ _Really?_ ” 

“You forget,” Carson said, sharing a quick look with Teyla, who was standing by the head of the bed, “we’ve done this sort of thing before, and while it worked, I have to say, the results can be somewhat… unpredictable.” 

Jack watched Daniel lick his lips, his eyes flicking back and forth between the two doctors. “Ooookaaaaay, but… you _can_ pull me out of this, right? I mean, if something weird happens, like… they try to take me over, or… I start… I don’t know, projectile vomiting something green or my head starts spinning…?” 

“We should be able to pull you out with a mild electric shock,” said Carson, pointing to a dial on the panel in front of him. 

“Doctor,” Teyla began, but Carson glared at her significantly and she quieted, though she returned a glare of his own. 

Daniel’s eyes narrowed. “ _Should_ be able to…” he began, and Teyla took his hand. 

“What Carson is saying,” she said smoothly before Carson could do much more than open his mouth, “is that he will do his best, and that he hopes the mild current he’ll be using will be enough to startle you out of your dream state, is that not it, Doctor?” 

“Yes, Teyla, that is close enough,” Carson said, looking flustered. 

“Close enough?” said Daniel, starting to sit up, and both Teyla and Carolyn laid their hands on his chest, pushing him gently back down. “Look, I appreciate…” 

“Dr. Jackson,” Teyla said firmly, and Jack suppressed a grin at the startled look on Daniel’s face when he found himself paying attention. She smiled kindly. “I have been through a similar situation, and I can safely say that Dr. Beckett is very good at what he does, and he will do his best to pull you out of it. He won’t stop. And neither will I.” She took Daniel’s hand and looked him in the eye. “I will be right here with you, and I will not leave. You have my word on it.” 

Daniel stared up at her, then nodded slowly. “Thank you, Teyla. I… appreciate that.” 

“See, Daniel?” Jack couldn’t resist saying. “You have a _brain_ buddy!” 

He threw his head back and laughed when Daniel flipped him the bird where Teyla couldn’t see it. 

Carolyn, however, did. She cleared her throat, giving Jack a jaundiced look before turning back to Daniel. “We’ll start by putting you in a light trance. That way, we can guide you into the memories of your dreams, and we can work from there.” 

Daniel didn’t look too happy about that, but he settled himself back as Carolyn got to work and Jack knew by her first words that it wasn’t going to work. 

For Pete’s sake, do these people just _not_ pay attention, or something? 

"All right, Daniel," she was saying, "I want you to close your eyes and relax. Let your mind go and just.. float. Focus on being... and nothingness..." 

“Uh… Dr. Lam?” Daniel's eyes were open, and he had that slightly concerned, slightly befuddled look on his face that was just so... _Daniel_. “Carolyn?” 

“Yes?” She was frowning at him again. 

“I… don’t think this is going to work.” He wrinkled his brow apologetically. “I’m sorry, I just can’t… _let go_... enough.” 

“Well, I can try a light sedative,” she began, reaching for a syringe, and Daniel sat up. 

“Whoa, no, no, that’s not…” he began, and Teyla caught his hand, touching Carolyn’s shoulder. 

“Please, Dr. Lam,” she said firmly. “Let me try.” 

Carolyn met her eyes for a long moment, then slowly nodded. “Okay. But if it doesn’t work…” 

“We shall try the light sedative,” Teyla agreed. She looked back at Daniel and nodded at him. “Dr. Jackson…” 

“Daniel, please,” Daniel said, and Jack just managed to not roll his eyes. 

Teyla blinked, then nodded slowly. “Daniel, then. Take a deep breath, then let it out slowly. Try to relax your body, muscle by muscle. Make your body soft. Just your body. Start at your toes, and work your way up...” 

Daniel did his best, and Teyla talked him through it, in a slow quiet voice, until Daniel was about as relaxed as he ever got. Which wasn't much, these days. Teyla sighed and smiled, stroking his hand lightly. “You're doing very well, Daniel. I am going to try to use the technique Dr. Heightmeyer used on me when I was trying to link to the Wraith. I have a feeling that… there is something connecting you to these other beings, and we can utilize this link in a similar fashion.” 

“Okay,” said Daniel slowly, looking up at her, then at Jack uncertainly. “I’m willing to give it a try.” 

“Good,” said Teyla, and after patting his hand, she grabbed a nearby stool and pulled it close. “I want you to close your eyes, and start focusing on your breathing. Make it smooth and even. In… and out… and in… and out…” 

Jack watched the stress slowly smooth out of Daniel’s face as he began to calm down under the soothing influence of Teyla’s voice. Slowly, she led him through breathing, and again through relaxing his muscles, one group at a time, until his breathing was slow, almost like that of a sleeper. This time, it worked. Looking up at Jack, then at Carson, Teyla took in a deep breath herself, then said, “Daniel, are you listening to me?” 

“Yes, Teyla,” Daniel said in a sleepy voice. “I am listening.” 

“Good, Daniel,” she said,warmth and approval suffusing her voice. “You are safe, I want you to remember that.” 

“I am safe,” Daniel said slowly. “Jack is here, so I’m safe…” 

Teyla looked up at Jack, and Jack nodded. “That’s right,” she said, squeezing Daniel’s hand. “Jack is here, and you are safe. Now, I want you to remember the feeling you have when you wake up from the dreams, Daniel…” 

“The… feeling?” Daniel’s brows drew together in a slight frown. “When I wake up?” 

“How do you feel when you wake up from the dreams, Daniel?” Teyla asked softly. “Can you describe it?” 

The frown deepened, little wrinkles forming around Daniel’s eyes as he concentrated, then said, “I feel… angry. And… protective… I want to protect the people I love… I want to defend my … my family… my team…” 

“Focus on those feelings, Daniel,” Teyla said firmly, her voice still soft. “Focus on those feelings and follow them. Follow them to where the dreams are…” 

 

 

 

He could hear her voice as a very distant whisper. “Follow the feelings… follow them to where the dreams are…” 

Daniel could almost _see_ them as a rope that he was gripping, pulling him back to that place that he tried so hard to forget during his waking hours. Or… wait… was _he_ the one trying to forget or… or did someone else just… not want him to _remember_ … 

As if that word were a trigger, the rope tugged in his hands and he was suddenly being drawn at great speed into a greyness, as if through murky water, until it lightened and he found himself watching shadowy shapes moving slowly around him. 

_What do you see? Where are you, Daniel? And what do you see?_

“I see… shapes… moving around me…” His voice was heavy, as if he were drugged, as if he were speaking through thick, heavy syrup that was gumming up his throat… 

_Your throat is clear, Daniel. There is no syrup. You are safe, and Jack is standing next to you…_

Jack. Jack always made him feel safe. Even when he got that smile, the one that meant something was about to blow up, or Jack was about to do something totally nuts… he felt safe. Because Jack would get him through it. 

_Yeah, Danny, I’ll get you through it. What do you see?_

“I see… the shapes are… tall, and… thin. They are… moving around something… I can’t quite see it…” 

_Can you make it clearer, Daniel? Can you see through the shadows?_

It was as if someone had pushed a curtain away, or blown away the fog. He could see much better now, and he moved slowly into the room. It was… it made him think of the holograph room on Atlantis, but… different. There were consoles, and… screens. And the people who moved around in the room were… hooded. Then one turned to face him and he gasped. 

_What is it, Daniel? What do you see?_

“The… the Trust,” Daniel said, staring around him in disbelief. He recognized some of these people. But… their eyes were wrong, they were flat, lifeless… blank. They moved as if they were on automatic, and Daniel knew he wasn’t seeing everything, not yet. “They’re… they’re being controlled. All of them, their eyes are blank… and they’re … this is all Ancient equipment I’m looking at… it’s… it’s the stuff that disappeared, that we’ve been trying to find…. and… they’re trying to find a ZPM… they don’t have one yet, but they need one…” 

_Why? Why do they need a ZPM, Daniel?_

“Without a ZPM, they can’t open the portal, and the others can’t come through…” 

_Who are the others? Daniel? Who are the others?_

One of the hooded figures turned and came toward him swiftly even as Daniel tried to move closer to one of the consoles, hoping to read what was there. What he saw, though, had him gasping even as his shoulders were grasped and he was turned. “Who are you? How did you get here??” 

“ _OUT!!_ ” shouted Daniel. “Out now, before he makes me forget!!” 

Something like fire made him leap, and he sat up, his heart pounding as he stared up into Teyla’s and Jack’s shocked eyes. “It’s… it’s Robert Kinsey,” he spluttered, shaking as Jack grabbed him by the shoulders. He caught hold of Jack’s arms, just to feel something real under his hands. “He’s… he’s working for them…” 

“Daniel,” Jack said, frowning, “Kinsey’s dead. He was killed when the _Prometheus_ destroyed the _alk-kesh_ he was on, remember?” 

“He had an Asgard beaming device,” said Daniel, shuddering as memory after memory surged through his head. “Oh…fuck… I’m gonna throw up…” 

“Not on me!” Jack squawked, though Daniel knew he didn’t really mean it. It did have the intended effect of distracting Daniel from his nausea long enough for someone to shove a wastebasket under his face. 

Hands held him, and he felt a sting in his arm. He turned to glare at Carolyn, who only raised an eyebrow at him as she put the syringe down. “What was that?” 

“Something for the nausea,” she said briskly. “And to calm you down.” 

“I remember,” Daniel said slowly, looking up at Jack as the older man wiped his face with a towel. “I remember it all now.” 

“Good,” said Jack, putting the towel down. “Can you share with the class?” 

Daniel laughed shakily. “It’s fucked up… oh, man, is it ever fucked up…” 

“Yeah?” Jack grimaced. “When _isn’t_ it fucked up, Daniel?” 

“You have a point.” Daniel accepted a glass of water from Teyla and sipped slowly. Except this time, it might just be the worst sort of fucked up ever. 

 

 

 

“Let me get this straight,” said John slowly. “You’re telling me that Robert Kinsey, former Vice President of the United States and just all around ass-hole, is behind all of this… shadow conspiracy stuff?” 

Jack frowned. “You make this sound so… fanciful.” 

John closed his eyes and dropped his face into his hands, leaning into his desk. “Do I sound that wishful? I mean, really, can we go at least… I dunno… a _month_ without some unknown creepy alien species out there either wanting to take over the Earth, eat us, or wipe us out completely??? I mean, really… what the fuck did we do to _them??_ ” 

There was a startled silence in the room for a moment, then Jack shook his head, laughing ruefully. “I have no idea,” he said finally. “But you know, I’m with you on that.” 

John leaned back in his chair and watched the Director of Homeworld Security thoughtfully. “Shouldn’t General Carter be here, too?” 

“Nope,” said Jack, picking up the bag he’d brought in and setting it on the desk with a solid _thunk._ He pulled out a bottle and two tumblers, setting them on the desk as he opened the bottle. 

John frowned. “Jack Daniel’s?” 

“I asked Walter for whiskey and this was what he brought me,” said Jack as he poured. 

“What did you ask him for, specifically?” asked John as he picked up one of the tumblers and turned it in the light, looking through the amber liquid in it. 

Jack met his eyes calmly. “For something to soften the blow.” He capped the bottle and set it on the desk between them. “I didn’t ask Carter or anyone else to be here, John, because… in some ways, this is between us. You and I have the strongest expression of the ATA gene out of everyone on this planet. So, you could say that in some ways… the protection of Earth really falls to the two of us.” 

John frowned. “Great. No pressure, then, right?” 

Jack smirked. “It’s going to be up to you to get Atlantis out of here, with all the people we’re sending along, and it will be up to me to hold Earth as long as possible.” 

“Sir,” said John, sitting up and leaning forward, “you’re not going to sacrifice yourself…” 

“Not willingly,” said Jack. He lifted the tumbler and took a sip. “But if it comes to it, I’ll push Daniel through the gate to you, and then overload the gate and… blow it up.” 

John frowned. “Sorry, _Jack_ … not an option.” 

With a snort, Jack set his tumbler down. “You think you really get a say in this?” 

“I know if Daniel comes stumbling through my gate because everything’s gone to hell here on Earth, you better be right behind him, because otherwise, he’ll probably Ascend or just… will himself to die, right there on the floor, and I’m telling you right now, I’m _not_ putting my people through that.” John stood and leaned on his hands to glare at Jack. “I’m not going to have my people watch Daniel Jackson kill himself because the one man he’s loved for _years_ couldn’t be bothered to try to live for him, after he came back to you, what was it, _twice?_ ” 

“He only really Ascended once,” Jack grumbled, frowning into the whisky. “The second time was more like an… in between thing. Sort of… half Ascended… half not…” 

“But he chose to come back,” John insisted. “He didn’t Ascend all the way.” 

Jack stared down into his glass. “No. He didn’t.” He looked up, his eyes haunted as they met John’s. “He came back, and he waited for me to pull my head out of my ass and…” he stopped, and knocked back the rest of the whisky. Shuddering, he closed his eyes, then opened them, staring resolutely into John’s. “Thing is, Sheppard, I know you understand. It’s not that I _want_ to sacrifice myself. I don’t want to die, not now that I have everything to live for. It’s that… I get it. I get it that there has to be a guy. One guy who does what has to be done. One guy who… flies the plane into the ship. One guy who realizes that someone has to manually detonate the bomb because the remote timer is damaged. One guy… who has to do the job, and let’s face it, Sheppard, usually that guy is you… or me. We are that guy. Because we get it. We understand. Even though we have everything to live for, and we have people who love us, whose lives would be… utterly destroyed by our loss. We do the job. Because somebody has to do it, and… we’re the one who got the short end of the stick.” 

John swallowed hard, then reached over to the bottle, unscrewing the cap so he could pour out a couple of fingers into each glass. Then he picked up his glass and held it up in salute to the only other man who understood. “To the guy, unknown, uncelebrated, but always necessary, and missed by those who loved him best,” said John Sheppard. 

“To the guy,” said Jack O’Neill, clinking their tumblers together, and they both knocked the whiskey back in one go, each of them shuddering and blinking. 

“Smooth,” coughed Jack, setting his tumbler down firmly. “Real smooth.” 

“Yeah,” said John, hoping the tears didn’t show. “Yeah. Smooth.” 

The door to John’s office flew open and Rodney burst in, tablet in hand. “John, you’re not going to believe this… oh,” he rocked back on his heels. “General O’Neill… what are you… hey, are you _drinking???_ ” 

“Whatcha got, McKay?” asked John, blinking rapidly as he frowned at Rodney. 

The crooked mouth pulled into a frown for about ten seconds before he blinked and moved to stand next to John. “I was examining those… implants that were removed from two SG team members, and I discovered something.” 

“Okay,” said John, trying to focus. “What did you find?” He hoped he had his “politely enquiring” face on and not his “completely lost” face. 

“Well, first thing… they’re not plastic.” Rodney bounced on his toes. 

“They’re not?” Jack frowned. 

“Nope.” Rodney brought the images up on John’s laptop and turned it so they could both see the screen. “It’s actually an organic material, and these things inside that look like electronic components?” 

“Yeah?” said Jack, peering at the screen with John. 

“They’re not. It’s all… organic.” Rodney tapped on his tablet and brought something else up on John’s laptop. “I had some of the biologists consult, and we’ve determined it’s kind of like… the chitin that some insects and crustaceans use to make their shells. And the electronic components inside are like… neurons or something…” he waved his fingers vaguely. “Carson’s looking at them now and should have a report in about half an hour.” 

“So… what does this mean, exactly?” Jack looked at them both expectantly. 

Rodney looked at John, then coughed softly. “I think it means that… whatever this is… these things aren’t human. But… they’ve been around humans and are learning how to… get around our systems. I’m not sure exactly what these implants are supposed to do, but I have a feeling they’re early versions of whatever it was that they were going to implant in Toby Taylor. And have possibly implanted in Sgt. Taylor’s aunt and uncle.” 

Jack frowned at Rodney, then poured another two fingers of whiskey in his tumbler. “I haven’t had nearly enough alcohol for this conversation.” 

John nodded and held his up. “Me, neither.” 

Rodney frowned as he watched them. “Um… did I miss something?” 

“Nope,” said Jack, leaning back in his chair. “Just… it’s the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine.” 

“Ooookay,” said Rodney, standing up. “I’ll… go wait for Carson’s report,” he said, pointing at the door. “And… yeah. Huh.” He left quickly. 

“Was it something I said?” Jack looked mournfully at the door, then back at his tumbler. 

“Come on, Jack,” said John, coming to a sudden decision. “If we’re going to get rip-roaring drunk on cheap whiskey, we should do it in the privacy of our quarters. Less panic that way.” He pulled Jack up from his chair. 

“Good plan,” said Jack. “That’s the other part of being the guy. We can’t even get properly drunk in public. Because… we can’t.” 

“I know,” said John, putting the bottle back in the bag, along with the tumblers, and tucking it all under his arm. “I know.” He led the way out of his office. 

 

 

 

Rodney stood back in the alcove and watched them go. “You have any idea what’s going on?” he asked the man standing next to him. 

“Nope,” said Daniel Jackson. “No clue.” He turned to look at Rodney. “Guess we need to stay sober if they’re going on a bender, huh?” 

“That won’t take long,” said Rodney with a snort. “John’s alcohol tolerance is rather low.” 

“Yeah?” Daniel shook his head. “Jack’s isn’t much better. Pilots.” 

“Yeah,” said Rodney. “Pilots.” He watched the transporter flash. “So… which one of us is going to pour them into bed in… what… twenty minutes?” 

“Give ‘em forty five,” said Daniel. “We’ll put them to bed and leave Tylenol and water out where they can find it… and leave the shades wide open so the room will be filled with sunlight when they wake up.” 

“Oh… that’s… diabolical,” said Rodney with admiration. 

Daniel smiled. “It’s a gift.” 

Whistling cheerfully, Daniel shoved his hands into his pockets and started walking slowly toward the transporter, Rodney following after a moment. Maybe it was irresponsible to be pondering a prank with what they were facing looming over them, but Daniel was a big believer in enjoying the little moments. It would give him something to savor when everything went to hell. 

 


	17. Interlude 3 - Consequences

 

There was an elephant kicking his head. And dwarves. _Heavy_ dwarves in hobnailed boots, stomping on and around his head. A few of them seemed to have made their way into his stomach, jumping up and down, too. Hopefully, one of the dwarves would take pity on him and put him out of his misery by shooting him in the head. 

“‘Fraid I can’t do that, Jack,” said one of the dwarves, who had apparently found a bull-horn and was using it to bellow directly into his ear. 

“Gaaaah, go ‘way!” Jack grumbled as he determinedly pulled a pillow over his head and waited for death to claim him. 

It was yanked off unceremoniously and Jack groaned, rolling over and yanking the blankets over his head, but that was a bad move because that made the dwarves tumble and flail in his stomach, and his stomach was definitely _not happy_ with the way things were going _at all_. 

He realized the cruelty of the world in general when he lurched up out of the bed, hoping to make the bathroom _before_ his rebellious stomach emptied itself of dwarves, boots, and last night’s dubious dinner all over the bed, only to slam into the solid bulk of his partner. _Fine_ , thought Jack wildly, _I’ll just throw up on HIM!!_

Daniel, however, seemed to be prepared, because he whipped out a trash can that evidently been kept at the ready. He caught Jack easily, supporting his body as he lost the battle with his stomach. 

When Jack was done, his mouth was wiped, and then Daniel was urging him to drink some water. 

“So,” said Daniel, helping him sit back against the bed, “feeling better?” 

“Not really,” said Jack, smearing his face around with one hand before letting his head fall back against the edge of the mattress. He hated sitting on the floor, but he didn’t have the energy to try to get up just yet. “Especially if it means you’re gonna lecture me.” 

“Nope. No lecture.” Danny folded his legs tailor style as he settled himself on the floor in front of Jack, folding his hands together as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. He watched Jack steadily, and Jack couldn’t help shifting uncomfortably at the sharpness of that gaze. 

“No lecture?” Jack squinted at Danny doubtfully. “Then could you at least close the curtains? Lower the lights? Make it less… painful?” 

“Sorry, can’t do that, Jack,” said his unsympathetic partner. 

“Why the hell not?” It came out plaintive, despite his best efforts. 

Daniel laughed softly, pushing the bottle of water he’d offered earlier back into Jack’s hand with a significant nod. “What was it you told Cassie? If you’re old enough to drink, you’re old enough to bear the consequences?” 

As much as he wanted to grumble, “Fuck you and the horse you rode in on,” at his lover, Jack didn’t. He hated it when Daniel was right. Dammit. 

“Okay, _fine_ ,” he groused instead. “But is that any reason to make me suffer?” 

“Yes,” said Daniel, the anger he was evidently feeling finally beginning to show. “Because I _needed_ you last night, Jack. I _needed_ you. I was scared, and freaked out, and I had just had… had.. _aliens_ … inside my fucking _head_ , Jack!!” He fisted his hands on his knees. “And I needed you to… to help me feel… like… like I would be okay again.” 

“You were… Lam… Lam was going to keep you overnight,” Jack said uncertainly. “And… I was … kind of freaked out, too.” He grimaced. “She sedated you!” 

“Well, it didn’t stick, I woke up,” Daniel muttered, waving his hand. He looked up at Jack, brows knitted together, and Jack knew he was in trouble. Big trouble. “And I got out of the infirmary, but I couldn’t find you at first. You weren’t in your office, or in the gym, or… any of the usual places, and when I finally _did_ find you, it was after you’d gotten Colonel Sheppard involved in your… your drinking plans, and you were _leaving_ with him!” Daniel got up and started pacing, hands shoved into his pockets. “I found Rodney McKay and we watched the two of you leave, and I ended up having to … talk to _Rodney fucking McKay_ about how … how… _freaked out_ I was, and Jack, did it occur to you that maybe, just… _maybe_ … we... we could have been… freaked out _together?_ You and me, I mean?” 

Jack closed his eyes against the light and the pained expression on Daniel’s face, the frantic pounding in his skull not quite loud enough to drown out the sound of Daniel’s harsh breathing. “Yeah,” he said finally. “Okay, you’re right. I… I shoulda… thought of that.” He winced as his stomach lurched warningly. “Daniel… can… can we do this… when I don’t feel like shit?” 

Daniel’s breathing hitched, then gusted in a sigh, and something touched Jack’s forehead for a moment. Jack squinted carefully through half closed lids to see Daniel leaning over him, lips pressed together in a thin line, his eyes bleak. “Okay, Jack,” he said, sounding tired. “How ‘bout I get you some Tylenol?” 

“Sounds like a plan,” Jack grunted, letting his head fall back against the mattress. “Can you help me up first, though? Floor’s kinda hard on these old bones.” 

“Yeah, sure.” Daniel’s hand gripped Jack’s and pulled him to his feet, then held him steady as his head swam. Jack leaned for a moment against the sturdy body, relief flooding him when he wasn’t pushed away, and a hand came up to stroke his back soothingly. 

It was a start. 

 

 

 

“I suppose you think you were entirely justified last night.” 

John woke with a start at the vicious tone of the sarcastic words, and regretted opening his eyes the second light pierced his skull. “Rodney, what the hell?” he muttered, sitting up slowly. 

“Do you have _any idea_ how stressed out Jackson was yesterday? And how stressful it was for _me_ having to _listen_ to him because _you_ went off drinking with _O’Neill?_ ” 

If he kept watching Rodney waving his hands around, he was seriously going to throw up. It was better to keep his eyes closed. “For the record, McKay, O’Neill came to _me_ and _he_ supplied the liquor!” He winced as his own voice made his head hurt. “And why are all my shades up???” 

“Because it’s time to get up, _Colonel!_ ” Rodney snapped and shoved a bottle of water in his hand. “Drink it.” 

With a grimace, John opened the bottle and drank. “Anything to go with the water?” he asked hopefully. Maybe if he looked pathetic enough... 

“Were you hoping for _hair of the dog?_ ” Rodney asked incredulously. 

Yeah, no, that wasn't going to work. 

John swallowed hard, hoping to keep the contents of his stomach where they belonged. “No,” he said when he could talk. “More like Tylenol or ibuprofen.” 

“Huh.” Rodney didn’t sound the least bit appeased. There was a rattle, then something was shoved into his hand. “Three ibuprofen. And finish the bottle of water.” 

John cracked one eye open enough to verify that it was, indeed, ibuprofen he was taking. He didn’t put it past Rodney to give him something nasty as payback. Tossing them back, he got up slowly and carefully. A shower just might help him feel somewhat better. “Look, I’m sorry, Rodney,” he said, turning to catch Rodney by the shoulders, and he sincerely hoped the scientist didn’t catch on it was because he was about to fall. “It wasn’t intentional.” 

“Just… go take a shower,” Rodney said, patting his shoulder awkwardly. “Seriously, man, you reek.” 

Trying to smile, John let go and lurched his way to the bathroom, taking care of his overly full bladder before starting up the shower. 

 

 

 

“Come on, Jack,” Daniel said, putting an arm around him, “why don’t you take a shower? It’ll probably help clear your head a little.” 

“Yeah, and I probably smell, too,” Jack said, allowing Daniel to steer him that way. 

“I won’t disagree with that,” said Daniel, and somehow, Jack knew he was wrinkling his nose, just by the sound of his voice. “Oh, and here’s the Tylenol.” The tablets were pressed into his hand. 

Jack took them, and chased them down with the rest of his water, and shuffled into the bathroom. “Thanks, Danny,” he said, opening his eyes in the thankfully dimmer bathroom. 

“Don’t mention it,” said Daniel, stepping back. “I’ll let you get on with it, see if I can grab some breakfast for us.” 

“Ugh, don’t mention food yet,” Jack said as his stomach rebelled at the idea. 

“Sorry.” Daniel moved to the door. “I’ll be back.” 

“Okay.” Jack leaned his forehead against the cool tiles as he pushed off his boxers, and pulled off the tee he’d slept in and shuffled into the shower and thought the water on, secure in the knowledge that the heat of the water would soothe his aches and pains nicely. 

 

 

 

John stepped into the shower after stripping, and listened to the sounds of Rodney bustling around their quarters. He liked their new quarters, not the least because they were sharing a bed. He also liked the nice big shower that let them shower together. Too bad Rodney wasn’t in here with him, but considering how mad Rodney was at him, it wasn’t a surprise. He thought the water on and waited for the heat that would help with the pounding in his head. 

 

 

 

The Marines who were off-loading newly arrived supplies paused and looked up at the sound of twin screams echoing through the city. “What the hell?” muttered one of them. 

 

 

 

“ _COLD!!!_ Cold, cold, _cold_ , cold!!” chanted Jack as he leaped out of the shower, toweling himself frantically as his skin shriveled and his genitals tried to crawl up into his body. It took a moment for the sound of laughter to click for him, and another for him to realize he was stone cold sober. “Daniel?” he asked slowly, turning toward the door. “What the hell did you do?” 

 

 

 

“ _God damn it, McKay!!!_ ” John snarled the moment he could breathe again. He’d screamed two seconds after the icy water had hit his back, and for a moment, the shock had made him turn to scramble for the controls before he remembered he could turn it off with his mind. “What the _hell?_ ” 

Rodney was cackling with glee from the main room, and John grabbed a towel. That water had been so cold, his skin _hurt_. “What did you do??” 

Rodney’s face appeared in the door. “Sorry, can’t tell you, trade secret,” he said, eyes dancing with glee. “That’s what you get for going on a bender and leaving me with Jackson!” 

“Why, you…” John began, rolling his towel and preparing to snap it at the laughing scientist, when he frowned. He was sober. Completely and totally sober. “Rodney?” 

Rodney wiped laugh tears off his cheeks. “Yes, John?” 

“I’m sober,” he said slowly, frowning at Rodney. “Why am I sober?” 

Rodney grinned. “All the better to appreciate the effect of _extremely_ cold water on the male anatomy.” Then humming happily to himself, Rodney strolled away. 

John looked down. “Aw, fuck…” 

 

 

 

“Hey, I can’t help it if you’re too hungover to think clearly,” Daniel said from the door. 

Jack growled and lunged toward him. “Why am I sober?” 

Daniel grinned. “Amazing people, the Ancients,” he said lightly, stepping out of range. 

“Daniel…” Jack growled warningly, and Daniel shook his head. 

“Talk to you later, Jack. In the meantime, you might think about what you did. I have a breakfast date with Rodney.” 

Jack could only stare as the door closed firmly. 

 

 

 

“That was pretty clever, routing water through the industrial freezers in the biology department,” said Daniel as he poured a cup of coffee for Rodney. 

Rodney grinned and passed the bacon. “Yeah, well… blame it on a professor at Northwestern. He inspired me to truly desperate heights with his idiocy, and for him, payback was a _bitch_. A very _cold_ bitch. In the middle of winter. For _three weeks_.” 

Daniel stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. “You are truly evil, Rodney, you know that? I’m just glad you’re evil on _our_ side!” 

Rodney just grinned and got busy with his eggs. 

“Thanks, by the way,” Daniel said softly. “For being there. I know that’s not really your thing, but…” 

“I don’t mind, really,” said Rodney easily. He looked up at Daniel and raised an eyebrow. “Just don’t… uh… make a habit of it. Once a year is enough.” 

“Yeah, okay,” said Daniel, and a smile of understanding passed between them. “Pass the salt?” 

“Sure.” Rodney passed it over, then grinned. “I’m sure Jack and John will join us… once their… equipment has… _decloaked_.” 

The resulting laughter and cackles of glee had the other inhabitants of the mess hall eying each other nervously. If they also moved surreptitiously away from the table the two scientists were sitting at, neither McKay nor Jackson noticed. But someone did decide to go check and make sure both O’Neill and Sheppard were alive and well and not chopped up in little bits. 

They might not be in the Pegasus galaxy yet, but the Milky Way had its own brand of fucked up, and anyway, who wanted to take chances? 

 


	18. Unexpected...

 

“Um... Chuck?” 

Chuck Taylor looked up from where he was going over specs for the improvements to the communication board Dr. McKay wanted to implement and took in the pale face of his younger brother. “Toby? What’s wrong?” He got up and grasped the teenager by the shoulders. “You okay?” 

“I’m okay, Chuck, it’s just...” and he held up his cell phone. “Aunt Mary keeps texting me... I mean... we deleted her contact info... didn’t we?” 

“Yeah, but we can’t delete yours from _her_ phone,” Chuck said grimly, taking Toby’s phone. “Dr. McKay disabled the GPS function, and the finder, too. It sends a false signal that you’re in Seattle. What’s she been saying to you?” 

“Mostly how much she misses me and loves me and won’t I please come home.” Toby shuddered, wrapping his arms around himself. “That’s not like her, you know? I mean, she’s told me she loves me but... you know, not all girly like that. _You_ know.” 

“Yeah, I know, kiddo,” Chuck said, thumbing through the text log to read what Aunt Mary had sent, and he had to agree. Aunt Mary was plain spoken, and her rare displays of affection tended to reflect that. She was more likely to say, “I love you, now get your feet off the table,” than the, “I miss you so much, sweetheart, and I love you dearly. Don’t you know you’re breaking my heart? Please come home to us, Toby, darling, we miss you!” that he’d just read four texts back. That was just... unnatural. “Wow, Toby, this is... “ 

“Creepy, yeah, I know,” Toby said with a little shudder. “You sure she can’t find me through my phone?” 

Chuck looked up at the tone in his brother’s voice, reading the anxiety in the hazel eyes staring back at him. “You’re really worried about this, aren’t you?” he said finally, giving up on quelling his own little niggles of doubt. 

“Yeah,” Toby said, hunching his shoulders uncomfortably and wrapping his arms around himself as he looked away. “It’s stupid, I know, but... they were so... _weird_ there... especially in the last few weeks.” He looked back at Chuck, and Chuck couldn’t help seeing the fading bruise on one cheekbone where Toby said his uncle had back-handed him before sending him to his room. And all because he wanted to participate in a workshop for high school science students at a nearby university. “They hardly let me leave the house, sometimes not even for school! And they started getting weird about food... Chuck... I can’t go back there!” 

“You won’t, Toby, I promise,” Chuck said, catching his chin to make him look up. “I never gave up guardianship of you, you know.” 

“You... you didn’t?” Toby looked shocked. “But... Aunt Mary said...” 

“She was wrong,” said Chuck. “I never gave it up, and I’m your guardian in fact, okay? So, they can’t do anything. Now,” and he settled an arm around his brother’s too thin shoulders. “let’s go to the labs and ask Dr. McKay and Dr. Zelenka about these phones again. And maybe get Dr. Kusanagi involved, too, because she’s like... a totally _boss_ hacker...” 

“Really?” Toby let himself lean into Chuck’s side, and Chuck smiled to himself, not drawing attention to it. Toby had been skittish and stand-offish since his rescue, and the new psychologist on the city told him that was normal, considering what Toby had been through. “She’s that cute little Japanese woman, right?” 

“That’s right,” said Chuck. “Come on, let’s see what they have to say.” Keeping his arm companionably around his brother, Chuck led him out of the rooms they were sharing, in search of scientists. 

 

 

 

“Okay,” said John, going over schedules with Lorne and O’Neill. “We’re three days away from our leave date.” He looked up at both men. “Either of you feeling like it’s a mistake to stay here any longer than we have to?” 

Lorne actually looked grim. “Actually, sir, the last couple of nights have me wanting to bug the hell out of here as soon as humanly possible. I already contacted my sister, and she and her boys are coming with us. They arrive later this afternoon.” 

John looked up in surprise. “Really? Wait... don’t you have other siblings?” 

“Yeah,” said Lorne. “Ellie’s the only one I feel the urge to save, though.” He shook his head. “It’s weird.” 

“How so?” asked Jack, studying him intently. 

“Well... I have two sisters and a brother. And... I’ve talked to all of them since we’ve been back.” He shook his head, flipping his pencil idly through his fingers. “The conversations I’ve had with Phil and Stacy were... odd, to say the least. It was like talking to strangers. But Ellie, well... she’s been in Hawaii, stationed there with her husband before he was killed, and... I don’t know, I resisted it until after all the stuff about the dreams came out, but after? I called her, and she said she’d been dreaming about me, too, and when I asked, she didn’t even hesitate. She’s packing up her boys with help from some of the _Daedelus’_ crew, and she had new orders cut to report to Cheyenne, so...” he shrugged. 

Jack nodded, then looked at John keenly. John shifted uncomfortably in his chair. 

“Any phone calls you need to make, John?” Jack asked quietly. 

John tried hard not to glare at the man. He still kind of blamed him for the _Cold Shower Incident_ , as they were now calling it. “Who would I call, Jack?” he asked, stalling. 

Jack snorted. “Oh, I don’t know... maybe your _brother??_ ” 

It was ridiculous for him to want his brother to come along. Dave had his own life and career, running the family business. He had two little girls and a wonderful wife. There was no reason for him to uproot him and ask him to bring his family to another galaxy and be under constant danger of being eaten by the Marilyn Manson Chapter of Space Vampires United. None at all. 

And just because he’d been having dreams for _weeks_ about his brother sobbing out, “Fine, I’ll do it, just... just... stop hurting them, please,” while two little girls screamed in the distance... that was no reason to call Dave and suggest a change in career and location... was it? 

A hand on his wrist made him nearly jump, and he looked up to find both of his companions staring at him. “Sir,” said Lorne softly. “It’s okay. It’s okay to want to save them.” 

John grimaced. “You don’t get it.” 

“Then tell us. Help us get it,” said Jack, leaning toward him. 

John let out a gusty sigh and scratched at his head before looking at them both. “Okay. I dream about Dave and his girls. Not his wife. I want Dave to come, and bring his girls... and leave his wife here. Because...” 

“Because...” prompted Jack, though there was a look in his eyes that said he knew already. 

“Because I think she’s one of them.” 

 

 

 

Teyla walked through one of the newly opened parts of the city, a section that had several lovely parks that the botanists had been busy restoring since their return. She noticed that there were birds in the trees, and wondered if they were birds from Earth, or birds that had been on the city all along who were coming out to explore the park as well. 

A ball bounced in front of her, and she stopped, watching three boys and two girls go rushing after it, laughing and shouting to each other as they ran. It was nice to be around children again, she thought as she watched them, and felt a pang of homesickness, missing Torren and Kanaan sorely. John had told her it would be only three more days, and truthfully, their departure could not come soon enough. 

“They’re so different from children in Pegasus, aren’t they?” 

Teyla turned and found Ronon leaning against a light post. She smiled and turned back to watch as one of the girls got control of the ball and began kicking and running with it back to the field they’d come from. “They laugh and play as all children do,” she said, her eyes following them. 

“Yes, but they’re _loud_ ,” said Ronon. He pushed away from the post to stand by her. “Children in Pegasus are much quieter. They tend to stick closer to their parents.” 

“For survival,” Teyla agreed. “It is a harsh lesson they learn in our galaxy. To remain quiet so the Wraith don’t find them. To stay close to their families, so that they can hide together, and for safety. They have never known that fear here.” 

“It’s easier to understand them, since we’ve been here,” said Ronon slowly and Teyla knew he meant John and the rest of the Atlantis expedition. “For all that they’ve been through, they’ve been safe. Most of their fighting has been among themselves.” 

Teyla nodded. “But, they did suffer under the Goa’uld.” 

“But they also drove them away,” Ronon said. He watched the children running with the ball toward a net set up on one end of the field. “I’m glad we came here. I’m glad to know what they face when they deal with their own people... and to see where they have come from, what they’ve overcome...” He met Teyla’s eyes. “But it is time to go home.” 

“Yes,” she said, leaning into him when he put an arm around her. “It will be good to go home again.” 

 

 

 

““John... I think you and McKay might want to come to the gateroom.” 

John frowned at the tone in Jack’s voice as it came through the radio in his ear. “What’s going on? Jack?” 

“Just... grab McKay and come to the gateroom. I’m beaming there with Mr. Chapmen in five.” Jack sounded calm, but there was an undercurrent of excitement in his voice that had John on alert. 

“Chapman? From the _I.O.A.???_

“That’s the one,” Jack said. “O’Neill out.” 

John rocked back on his heels for a moment at the abrupt dismissal, then clicked his own radio. “Sheppard to McKay, did you catch any of that?” 

“Catch any of what?” came the scientist’s voice in an abstracted mutter. “Busy here.” 

Grimacing and knowing it was useless to order Rodney to the gateroom in that tone, John changed directions and headed for the lab to personally prod the man away from whatever project it was he was currently lost in. 

Six minutes later (Rodney had argued, of course), John dragged a still protesting Rodney through the doors into the gateroom, and then stopped in surprise at the people standing there. There was Jack, of course, and then the I.O.A. representative for the United Kingdom, Russel Chapman. But it was the five cases around their feet that had Rodney’s mouth dropping open, and John frowning. “Hello, Mr. Chapman,” John managed to recover enough to say politely. “What’s going on?” 

Jack turned to look at them, then back at Chapman, who came forward slowly. “John,” Jack said, finally. “Mr. Chapman has a... gift. For... Atlantis.” 

Chapman coughed slightly, then said, “Yes, well... I had a rather... unusual ... _embassy_ come to my office today, and... I’m still processing it somewhat. I _still_ don’t entirely believe what happened...” 

 “Just tell them what you told me, Russel,” Jack said kindly. 

Chapman nodded shortly, then looked back at John and Rodney, visibly bracing himself. “I don’t know if you’re aware of it, gentlemen, but there is a tradition that goes back centuries, really, of sending a ‘well-budded branch’ to the reigning monarch of England every Christmas, though traditionally it’s held to have started during the reign of James I...” 

Jack made a rolling motion of his hands, and Chapman coughed and reddened. 

“Yes, well... the... er... well-budded branch of Glastonbury Thorn is _officially_ sent by the Vicar and Mayor of Glastonbury, and is seen as a quaint little English custom,” said Chapman, rocking a little on his heels. “In reality, however, it’s actually sent from the... Lady of Avalon to the reigning monarch as a... symbol of ... Avalon’s blessing for the continued reign of... whoever is sitting on the throne.” 

Rodney stared at Chapman in disbelief, then turned to John. “You dragged me away from translating a new section of the Ancient database, the first references we’ve _ever_ found that even _mentions_ ZPM research... for _this???_ ” 

“McKay,” Jack said sharply, and the physicist turned to glare at him. “Trust me,” Jack said softly. “This is definitely worth your while.” Jack nodded at Chapman. “Continue.” 

Chapman looked doubtfully at Rodney, but took in a deep breath and went on. “Right. Well... this morning, I received a gift with the understanding that I was to bring it directly to Atlantis. And to give you this message.” He held a roll of what looked like parchment out to John, who took it carefully. “Read it, before you open the... er... gifts.” 

John, completely mystified, unrolled the parchment. 

 

_**To Colonel John Sheppard and Dr. Meredith Rodney McKay,**_

_**We send you a gift, from the island of Avalon, to the city of Atlantis. Avalon was a haven to the Ancients, who left a time dilation field in this place for those of the bloodline who wished to learn the best of what they had left to offer.**_

_**The Ancients came to regret having abandoned Pegasus to the hunger of the Wraith, and left here in Avalon the means to continue the fight, once the people of Earth had matured and advanced to the point where a return is possible. Therefore, we of Avalon send to you, Dr. McKay, the means to power Atlantis and keep her going for as long as she is needed, to continue the fight the Ancients abandoned. Plus a little extra for whatever needs they who guard Earth’s Stargate may have.**_

_**Sincerely,**_

_**Gillian Merryweather**_

 

John looked up from the letter that Rodney was reading a second time and stared at Russel Chapman in shock. “Is this for real??” he asked in disbelief. “Seriously??” 

“As serious as a heart attack,” said Chapman gravely. “I am under a solemn oath that I dare not break, gentlemen, not to reveal to you how these came to me, save that they come to you from a power older than England herself. And after you open these... _gifts_... I have one more to give you.” 

Rodney finished reading and stared up at Chapman dubiously. “Avalon? Are you kidding me? What, did Arthur himself come up and give it to you, with Excalibur on hand?” 

Chapman shook his head, a small smile playing about his mouth. “I assure you, Dr. McKay, I was as skeptical as you. I’m not sure I totally believe it even now, since I haven’t really had time to process it. I do know, however, that the vow I took was _quite real_ , and I am not willing to test its limits. Please, open the cases.” 

Rodney rolled up the parchment and handed it back to John, then went to the first case and lifted it into his hands, opening the latches on the side before opening the case, and stared into it with wide eyes. 

“Rodney?” 

It wasn’t often that Rodney McKay was struck speechless. 

John moved toward the scientist and stopped when he saw what was in the case. 

“Holy... fucking... shit,” he said softly, staring at the softly glowing object in the case. “Is that... is that really...” 

“It’s a fully charged ZedPM, John,” said Rodney in a reverent tone. He looked up at Chapman. “You brought me a fully charged ZedPM!” 

“Please, Dr. McKay, check the other cases,” said Chapman in a strained voice, as if he were in pain. 

Rodney blinked, but shoved the case into John’s hands, then picked up another, opening it quickly. “ZedPM,” he said briskly, putting it down before picking up a third. “ZedPM,” he said again, a shade of hysteria in his tone. “ZedPM,” he almost whimpered on the fourth. Then on the fifth, “Aaaaaaaaand... ZedPM.” He turned to stare up at John, his face pale and almost blank. “Holy fucking shit, John... we’ve got five ZedPMs.” He stood there, staring wonderingly at them for a long moment, before he suddenly jumped and shouted, “ _WE’VE GOT FIVE FUCKING ZEDPMS!!!!!_ ” 

Chuck was later heard to lament that he had been too stunned to grab his camera and get a shot of the truly incredible sight of Colonel Sheppard, Dr. McKay, and Major General O’Neill jumping up and down in a celebratory little circle of joy, laughing their asses off the entire time. “No one will ever believe me!” he said mournfully. 

Banks had raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Pictures, or it didn’t happen,” she said dryly. 

“Story of my life,” said Chuck, as he went back to manning the scanners. 

 


	19. Watch Your Feet...

 

There were fingers moving through the hair on his chest and belly, and he stretched his entire body, arms over his head and pointing his toes, yawning before turning toward the owner of the fingers and pulling him close.

The sly hand slid lower to wrap around his very interested cock, and John cracked open one eye to peer at his partner. “Even if you give me the best morning blowjob ever known to man, I’m still not letting you keep all five ZPMs, Rodney,” he said knowingly. 

The hand stopped, and the blue eye closest to his glared. “That’s not why I’m doing this!” Rodney protested indignantly. 

John chuckled and rolled on top of the now spluttering man. “Really? Because I seem to remember hearing you say to Dr. Zelenka that you’d do whatever it takes to make sure we keep all five ZPMs...” He smirked into Rodney’s stunned face. 

“John,” he said, aghast, “I wouldn’t use _sex_ to... John, I don’t.. I wouldn’t..” His babbling ended in a squeak when John curled his hips forward, creating a delicious friction of skin and hair against Rodney’s naked morning wood. He did it again, and caught his breath when Rodney shuddered, the crooked mouth working as he tried to gather up enough brain cells to talk. 

“Mmmm-hmmmm?” he hummed against Rodney’s jaw, nibbling his way up to his ear. “You were saying?” 

“So... not... fair...” was grumbled near his ear. Hands gripped his shoulders desperately as John frotted against his scientist again. “You play... d-dirty pool, John!” 

Almost laughing, John said, “Pool here’s clean, Rodney, and I don’t play in it. When I get in, it’s _serious_.” 

He wondered if, wherever he was right now on the city, Ronon’s ears were twitching. 

“Just stop talking, Colonel Blabbermouth, and get to work!” Rodney gasped, rocking his hips up to meet John’s. 

“Of course, Dr. McGreedy.” He stifled Rodney’s protests with a very thorough kiss, reaching for the tube that was always kept on the nightstand. It took only a moment to wrap a slick hand around them both and start stroking. 

“John,” Rodney babbled once his mouth was free. “John, John... _please_...” 

“Shhhhh, I’ve got you,” John said, nipping his way down Rodney’s throat. “Just don’t come until I do...” 

“Not... not gonna last, John,” Rodney said with a quiver in his voice. “Too... too close...” 

“Already?” John smiled as he slid his hand slowly up, increasing the pressure slightly before rubbing a forefinger over the tip of Rodney’s cock before sliding it back down. “Aw, come on, Rodney... surely with that big brain of yours, you can exert a _little_ control over yourself... can’t you?” 

Rodney’s mouth worked silently for a moment before he drew in a deep breath and said, “No, no, I can’t... really, I can’t...” 

“Oh, sure you can, buddy,” said John, licking his way back up the quivering column of Rodney’s neck, his hand working between them slowly and steadily.. “You want to please me, don’t you? Hmmmm?” 

The Adam’s apple under his lips bobbed for a second as Rodney swallowed, then he had to hide a laugh when Rodney said, “You know, calling me buddy when we’re... doing this.... is definitely _not_ sexy.” 

“Then why are you leaking all over my fingers... _buddy?_ ” John asked softly, his lips right in Rodney’s ear, and felt Rodney shiver, restless fingers tapping against his shoulders. Letting go of their cocks, John lifted up and grabbed Rodney’s wrists, moving his hands up to the wrought iron headboard. “Grab,” he said firmly. 

Rodney wrapped his fingers around the metal bars without question, his eyes wide. John shifted deliberately, rubbing their cocks together and Rodney whimpered. John just smirked as he settled back in place. “Don’t let go.” 

“But... but, I want to touch you...” 

“And I want you to hold onto those bars, Rodney,” John said, raising one eyebrow as he slid his hands down to Rodney’s hips. “And you want to please me, don’t you?” 

“Yes, John,” Rodney said breathlessly as he closed his eyes. 

“Eyes open, Rodney.” 

The blue eyes popped open, pupils fully dilated with arousal, and then Rodney gasped when John’s mouth moved slowly down his chest to fasten on a nipple. “Oh... oh, God...” 

“Hands on the bars, Rodney,” John said warningly, and he felt the scientist quiver under him. He knew without looking that the man’s hands were gripping the bars so tightly, the knuckles were probably white. He wrapped his hand around their cocks again and began to stroke them with agonizing slowness as he rolled his hips forward. A soft, keening moan made him grin around the nipple he was suckling. He could do this for _hours_ , he thought, though really, they didn’t have that long. Not today. But he was going to make it good for Rodney. Oh, he was going to make it so good for Rodney. 

“John, John, John...” Rodney was chanting softly in that high, breathy voice that meant he was getting close again. 

“Hang in there, buddy, I know you can do it,” John said encouragingly as he slid his hand up, then down, dragging his thumb over Rodney’s balls as he stroked up, then his forefinger over the head of Rodney’s engorged cock as he stroked down, changing the grip as his hand moved, squeezing one minute, twisting the next. And all with the same slow steady pace. It was just as torturous for him as it was for Rodney. “Wait until I say you can...” 

“John... God... John... dunno... how much longer...” Rodney was beginning to shake, his hips quivering with the need to thrust up into John’s hand, to move against the cock that was squeezed against his own. “John... please... please... let me... let me....” 

“Let you what, Rodney?” John asked, keeping his voice soft, twisting his hand ever so slightly before jerking it a little, hoping like hell Rodney couldn’t hear the quiver in his breath. He loved this man so much. He _wanted_ this man so much, and having him like this was... beyond what he’d ever hoped for. Every damn day. 

“Oh... God... John... _please_... I can’t! I can’t...” 

“Yes, you can,” said John, pressing his lips to the sweat-slicked skin over Rodney’s heart before moving to the other nipple, scraping it gently with his teeth. Rodney squirmed, panting desperately, his legs working restlessly on either side of John’s hips. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured against Rodney’s skin. “So desperate to come, and wanting to obey me, too... so beautiful, Rodney...” 

“John,” Rodney panted, “Oh, God, John, please! Come _on!_ This... this isn’t fair!” 

“Of course, it is,” said John, lifting up to look into his lover’s eyes. “Because you’re giving this to me, aren’t you, baby?” 

Rodney stared at him for a shocked moment, then he licked his lips and said, “Yes... yes, John. I’m... I’m giving this to you...” 

The look in his eyes was so full of trust, so full of love, John shuddered, unable to stop himself now. His hand sped up, he braced his other hand against the mattress and thrusting desperately against the slick cock in his hand, he gasped, “Come, Rodney, come _now!_ ” 

With a cry, Rodney arched underneath him, and the sharp scent of semen filled the air. The sight of their combined release striping Rodney’s belly and chest made his cock pulse a couple more times before he was done and he was flopping with Rodney on the bed. 

It took a few minutes for his vision to return to normal, and when he looked down, he found a very blissed out scientist sprawled underneath him, hands still firmly gripping the headboard. Laughing softly, John reached up to pry stiff fingers from the bars, kissing each hand as he brought it down. 

Rodney stared up at him, watching as he rubbed feeling back into the scientist’s hands. “You’re kind of bossy in bed,” he said quietly. 

John smiled and met the curious eyes fearlessly. “And you’re perfectly okay with that,” he said, checking to make sure Rodney hadn’t hurt his hands. 

“Yeah,” Rodney said slowly, sounding surprised. “Yeah... I am.” 

John kissed him lightly before getting up and going to the bathroom for a washcloth, running it under warm water and wringing it out before coming back to the bed. “Don’t overthink it, Rodney,” he said as he wiped Rodney’s chest and belly carefully before attending to his own. 

Rodney caught his wrist and sat up slowly. “I... I don’t understand. I mean... why? Why do I...?” 

“You trust me,” said John simply. He sighed at the look in Rodney’s eyes and reached up with his free hand to caress his face before kissing him again, this time slowly, tenderly, until he felt Rodney relax. “You trust me to take care of you, Rodney,” he said calmly. “You always have. You know I won’t let you down. I’ll always yank you back when you’re about to go too far. I’ll catch you when you fall. I’ll come look for you if you get lost. I’ve got your back, Rodney, and you know that.” 

“But... this... and the kneeling...” Rodney began, and he blinked when John grinned. “What?” 

“We work, Rodney,” John said, cupping the all too animated face between his hands. “I know how to take you out of yourself... and you give me a reason to come back alive.” 

Rodney blinked at that, then smiled slowly. “Yeah... okay.” 

“Okay.” John kissed him again, then pushed him back down to the mattress. “Now... how about round two?” 

 

 

 

Richard Woolsey watched the way Russel Chapman’s hands fiddled with the ornately carved wooden box that lay on the table before him as they waited for Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay to join them. Richard had spent years at tables like this one, negotiating contracts, plea bargains, treaties, all the “arrangements” that qualified as human interaction, and he’d learned a lot about what made the people sitting on the other side of those table tick. 

Whatever was in that box, Chapman was torn. Whatever it was, it was valuable enough that Chapman wanted to keep it, but evidently, the _delegation_ from Avalon had made it clear that keeping it wasn’t an option. 

The door to the conference room opened, and the two men they’d been waiting for came in, McKay with a bounce in his step and a gleam in his eye, Sheppard looking like the cat who’d gotten the cream. 

“Good morning, Colonel Sheppard, Dr. McKay,” Richard said dryly. “So good of you both to join us.” 

“Someone drank all the coffee and didn’t brew more” said McKay, brandishing an insulated mug. “So I had to wait until this finished brewing.” 

Richard gestured to the sideboard that had been installed, with a freshly brewed carafe steaming invitingly at one end. “I brought out the Kona especially for you, Dr. McKay, since it seemed likely to me that you probably spent most of the night drooling over the new ZedPMs.” 

“Nope, he went to bed at a reasonable hour last night.” said Sheppard cheerfully, pouring himself a cup of the coffee before sitting down at the table. “Mmmmm,” he said after taking a sip, “this Kona is really good.” He smiled beatifically at McKay. “ _Really_ good.” 

Richard hid a smile behind the folder he picked up, pretending to align the papers in it before laying it back down and clearing his throat to halt the retort that was so clearly forming in McKay’s throat. 

“Gentlemen,” he said calmly, and had the satisfaction of watching McKay subside. “And, of course, Teyla,” he added, nodding graciously to the Athosian woman, who nodded back, the slightest hint of amusement in her eyes. “Mr. Chapman wanted to be sure to have everyone here for the second half of the very generous gift sent to us by those at… Avalon,” and Richard couldn’t help a little cough at that. It still seemed too fantastic, too unreal. He’d grown up reading Malory’s _Le Morte d’Arthur_ , as well as Tennyson’s versions, and even Twain’s satirical _A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court_. The idea of any of that being _real_ was almost too much for Richard to process, and he’d half dreaded waking up this morning to find out the five ZPMs had all been part of a dream. 

He’d had to walk down to the labs and see them glowing softly in the secure lab to reassure himself yesterday had really happened. 

“What second gift?” asked McKay, setting down the mug of Kona he’d poured for himself after gulping down what he’d brought. “Didn’t we already deal with that? It was the thorny cutting thing, right? The plant the botanists were going nuts over,” he said, clicking his fingers as he frowned, “the one they’re planting in that big pot thing in the main atrium…” 

“The Holy Thorn, Rodney,” said Jackson with a snort, “also known as the Glastonbury Thorn? Legend says it sprang from the staff of Joseph of Arimathea after he arrived in Britain…” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” said McKay, waving a dismissive hand at him. “Important plant, got it…” 

“It’s _symbolic_ , Rodney,” Jackson insisted, and Richard groaned inwardly, knowing they were in for a lecture. Hopefully, O’Neill would be able to cut the archaeologist off at his next breath. “The Ancients planted the first Thorn from a cutting they brought from Pegasus when they fled here from the Wraith war. It’s symbolic. The Thorn has come home.” 

McKay got up and went back to the coffee pot. “I haven’t had near enough caffeine for this,” he grumbled. 

Jackson opened his mouth, but as Richard had hoped, O’Neill laid a firm hand on Jackson’s arm and cut in neatly, “We’ve kind of gotten off track here. Let’s let Richard finish what he’s saying before we jump to conclusions, okay?” 

Richard cleared his throat, straightening the two pens that lay next to his notes. “Yes. As I was saying, Mr. Chapman has a second gift to give to us, but he wanted to do it quietly this time, hence our meeting here. Mr. Chapman?” 

Chapman drew in a deep breath, let it out, and said, “Right.” He stood slowly and lifted the wooden box in his hands, walking over to where McKay had settled back in his chair. “Dr. McKay, judging by the reports that have come across my desk at regular intervals, one of the sources of the greatest frustration for your expedition is the Ancient database. “ 

“Yes,” said McKay with a little frown. “It’s a disorganized mess. It would be one thing if we just needed to translate it, but it’s as if someone deliberately ruined the ability to use searches to find information. Cross-referencing is non-existent, and forget using keywords…” 

“Precisely,” said Chapman slowly. “From my understanding, Dr. McKay, when the Ancients left the city, they wanted to be sure no one would be able to just… _use_ her indiscriminately for anything other than fighting the Wraith. They didn’t want to contemplate any of those who remained being able to use the city’s weapons on any of the human populations that remained in Pegasus. Nor did they want to chance the Wraith accessing the database. So… they removed the database key.” 

McKay’s mouth fell open, as did Dr. Jackson’s and Dr. Zelenka’s. “You mean… you mean they did that on _purpose??_ ” he spluttered. “Those… _assholes!_ ” 

“Please, Dr. McKay,” said Chapman. “Language.” He coughed nervously at McKay’s jaundiced eye, and said, “Yes, well… the database key has been held at Avalon all these millennia, waiting for someone to prove themselves as _deserving_ …” 

McKay was clearly working up an indignant retort, but a thump under the table and McKay’s pained wince had Richard giving a small smile of approval to Colonel Sheppard. “And I take it our arrival to defeat the Wraith is what proved us deserving?” Sheppard asked as he clamped a hand over McKay’s mouth firmly. 

Chapman smiled wryly. “Actually, Colonel, it was you and your people’s fight to keep Atlantis independent, and your determination to return her to Pegasus that proved your… mettle, to quote the word of the High Priestess.” 

“Wow,” said Jackson slowly. “That’s… that makes sense, actually.” He met McKay’s indignant glare calmly. “Rodney, think about it. You brought Atlantis to Earth to defend it against the Wraith, and won. Then you settled the city on the water, and… it would have been so easy to just… give in, and let the U.S. and the I.O.A. just… take over and loot the city until there was nothing left. Or let the U.S. military take over and use her weapons to intimidate everyone else into doing what the U.S. wants. But you didn’t. _No one_ on this city gave in to any of the pressures exerted on you. You kept Atlantis out of everyone’s hands, and you’re taking her back where she belongs.” He looked around the table at the people sitting there, blue eyes full of respect. “Trust me, you’re deserving.” 

Mr. Chapman opened the box, carved with symbols familiar to those who watched him, motifs seen all over the city. Lying within, glowing softly with its own pale light, was what looked like a crystal rod with a knob at one end. McKay got up slowly and stared at it. 

“That’s it?” he demanded breathlessly. 

“Yes, Dr. McKay,” said Chapman with a snort. “That, as you say, is it.” 

“Rodney,” said Zelenka slowly. “I… I know where it goes.” 

“Of course, you do,” said McKay, rolling his eyes. “We _all_ do…” 

“No, no, Rodney,” said Zelenka, started to get excited. “It goes in holo room… in pedestal with hologram…” 

“What is this, we get the database key to make things more coherent and you _lose_ coherency?” asked McKay, turning to glare at him. “No, Rodney, there is … _opening_ … on pedestal, _this exact shape!!” Zelenka said. “It makes sense! That room is… _library! _It is… _heart_ of _database!!_ ” ___

___Richard immediately picked up his things and moved back. No sense being in the way of the stampede once Dr. McKay finished processing Dr. Zelenka’s words. He’d learned his lessons, and learned them well.___

 _ _ _

 

 

 

The moment after Rodney settled the rod in place on the Ancient console and watched it sink in before lighting up was almost anticlimatic. There was no dramatic lighting, no singing choirs of Ancients, no sudden appearance of a New and Improved Holographic Lady to explain things in a way that suddenly made sense. 

Instead, the console purred and burbled happily to itself, the lights on the panel flickered for a moment, and... that was that. 

They all stood there, waiting, and Rodney looked up, meeting John’s eyes. John raised his eyebrows, tilting his head as he held up his hands and said, “That’s.... it?” 

“What do you mean, _that’s it?_ ” Rodney glared at him and gestured to the console. “It’s... processing.” 

“I dunno, Rodney, it looks like it’s done,” said John skeptically. 

Please, Rodney thought at the city as hard as he could, please,do... _SOMETHING_. “It’s not... done,” he said, laughing weakly. “What do you mean, it’s done? Look at it....” 

“It looks done,” said Radek, his arms crossed over his chest as he frowned down at the console. “It is not working or processing at the moment.” 

“Not working?” Woolsey was frowning at them, and Rodney wanted to kick Radek. “Gentlemen, please tell me you didn’t break the city.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Rodney began when their radios crackled to life. All of their radios. 

“Dr. McKay, this is Chuck in Control. You might want to come up here. There’s... something you should see...” The man sounded nervous. 

“Everything okay up there, Chuck?” asked John, frowning at Rodney. 

“Well, Colonel, either I’m suddenly able to read Ancient without any trouble, or... you just need to come see this.” 

Rodney briefly wondered why Woolsey suddenly stepped back and pressed himself against the wall as they all rushed out of the holograph room. 

 

___


	20. And Walk Carefully...

 

Central Control was much calmer than Rodney expected when he rushed up the stairs. “Okay,” he said, proud that he wasn’t out of breath. “What’s going on?”

Everyone was standing and staring at the main screen and Chuck wordlessly raised his hand to point. 

Rodney turned as Radek bumped into him and he was dimly aware of the others arriving as he felt his own mouth fall open in shock. 

There were words flowing across the screen, words in Ancient that were rapidly ... _melting_ into English. And Czech. And Chinese... Hebrew... Spanish...Japanese. Every language used by members of the Atlantis Expedition... and some that weren’t. He turned to stare at Chuck and the other people who’d been sitting at the consoles in Control. “What did you do?” he demanded, though his words lacked their usual bite. 

Chuck swallowed hard. “Nothing, Dr. McKay, I swear. We were just ... doing our jobs. I swear, I haven’t had a coffee in C.C. in _three years!_ ” 

“It started on its own, Dr. McKay,” said one of the women, what was her name? Rodney frowned... she was dating Ronon... _Banks!_ Thank _God_ , he was getting better at names. “We had just cleared Jumpers 3 and 4 to the Jumper Bay when the computers went dark for about ten seconds and then... they started doing this.” She flapped her hand at the main screen. “It’s like... it’s like the main core is... learning our languages or something...” 

“Is exactly what it’s doing,” said Radek, his eyes wide as he stared at the screen. “Is learning _every written language on Earth!_ ” 

Feeling numb, Rodney moved to one of the consoles and flexing his fingers over the keyboard for a moment, slowly started typing. He’d do a simple search first, nothing too fancy or demanding. “Water filtration station repair,” he said as he typed. 

The screen stopped scrolling, then a map came up, followed by a schematic and directions on how to clear the screens, how to repair the power couplings, and how to rebuild replacements. More followed, with directions on where the salt vats were located, how to access them, how to adjust the flow rate... Rodney’s mouth fell open at the wealth of information they were getting. He turned and met John’s eyes. “It works,” he said slowly. “The database works.” 

“Rodney,” said Radek nervously, “one search is not enough evidence...” 

He turned back and began typing rapidly now. “ _Potentia_ /ZPM recharging,” he said and waited. 

This took a little longer, but a schematic came up, along with a map to the ZPM recharging facility way out on the end of the south pier, along with the words, “Facility in disrepair, material resupply requested, new components needed...” 

Hands gripped his shoulders, and he was pulled up out of the chair and swung around, and he found himself being danced around the control room by his second, who was babbling cheerfully in Czech. For some odd reason, there were flashes of light that he felt he should be concerned about, but John had grabbed him and once John’s mouth was firmly on his, Rodney ceased to be concerned about anything else going on. 

 

 

 

Alicia Banks grinned at Chuck, digital camera in her slender hands. “I got pictures. Pay up.” 

Chuck tried to grimace as he dug in his pocket for his wallet, but it turned into a grin when he saw the way Dr. McKay’s hands moved against Colonel Sheppard’s arms. Plus the little impromptu dance Dr. Zelenka was getting into with Dr. Kusanagi was pretty darned cute. Yeah, entirely worth forty bucks, and photos for the BB later. _Totally_ worth it. 

 

 

 

Jack stood on the balcony that gave the best view of San Francisco, smirking to himself. The geeks, including his Daniel, were all happily ensconced in front of their computers, plumbing the depths of Atlantis’ database. He had five teams out buying everything they could think of to keep a city full of people happy and functioning away from Earth, as well as another team who were working with the city’s botanists to buy trees, plants, and seeds for the city’s greenhouses. He wasn’t sending his people out into the black without the comforts of home again. 

He refused to think of the other reason he was doing it. 

The folder in his hand was still unopened, and he was trying to maintain an illusion of hope. There was bad news in that folder, he knew it, and this really was only delaying the inevitable, but that was his choice, dammit. 

“Sir?” 

He sighed, closing his eyes. Of _course_ , Sheppard would be here. “Close the door, John, we didn’t get five new ZPMs so you could air condition San Francisco Bay.” 

He heard John snort, but the doors closed behind him. “We’re only keeping three, you know.” John cleared his throat. “Heard you got a report from the mountain. Is it about the new threat?” 

“Dunno,” Jack said, trying not to sound depressed. “Haven’t read it yet.” 

He turned and found John eying the folder in his hands like it was a poisonous snake. He sighed. “Guess we should just... open it and get it over with, huh?” 

“Yeah,” said John, and he leaned against the railing and waited. 

With a grunt, Jack opened the folder and read the first paragraph. Frowning, he kept reading, turning pages and handing each to Sheppard as he finished. When he was done, he leaned against the rail himself and turned to watch the other man, watching his nostrils flare with distaste, then the growing anger in the lines around his eyes and in the downturn of his mouth. “Well,” he said as John handed the last sheet back to him, “that’s that.” 

“As you said,” John said with a grimace, beginning to pace. “How are they... how are they doing this? Without anyone noticing?” 

“Oh, people are noticing,” Jack said, closing the folder carefully. “They’re just... being... _detained_... before they can say anything about it. Or... having car accidents. Food poisonings. Depending on how dangerous they are or how seriously other people might take them.” He looked at John. “So... David...” 

“I can’t ask Dave to leave his wife... uproot his girls, and... come with us,” John said, running agitated hands through his hair. It stuck up wildly for a moment before settling back into its usual mess of cowlicks. He turned to stare at Jack. “Can I?” 

“Could you live with yourself if you don’t try... and something happens to them?” Jack watched John’s eyes widen and nodded. “She hasn’t done anything that you’re aware of, right?” 

“She didn’t come to my promotion ceremony,” said John slowly. 

“No,” said Jack carefully. He shuffled the papers in the folder for a moment before closing it again. “Two days, John.” 

“Yeah,” said John with a scowl. He stared at the Golden Gate Bridge for a long moment, then nodded. “Yeah, okay. I’ll... call them. And we’ll go get them in a Jumper. I’m not wasting time waiting for him to fly out here...” 

Jack checked his watch. “In thirty minutes, she’ll be out for a hair appointment, and the girls will be at their riding lessons. Dave will be in his office...” 

“Have you been watching them?” John demanded. 

Jack sighed. Really, the man was a commanding officer and was known to be overprotective of the people important to him to a fault. “Seriously?” 

“Yeah, okay,” said John. “I’ll call him in thirty.” 

“Good man.” His work done, Jack tucked the folder under his arm and left the balcony, whistling softly to himself. 

 

 

 

Dave Sheppard frowned at the pills his wife had left him and the glass of water next to them. “Those headaches aren’t going to get any better if you don’t take the medication the doctor prescribed,” Beth had said, setting them down firmly. 

Thing was, his headaches hadn’t been so bad since he _stopped_ taking the pills, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. Something told him that wouldn’t be a wise move. 

Something had changed. _Beth_ had changed. Oh, she still did a lot of the same things, her charity work, volunteering at the girls’ school, helping them with their homework. Mostly. Though she had started saying odd things like, “Oh, sweetie, you don’t need to worry about learning math so much, here, have a cookie!” or “History is so boring, here, let’s do something much more interesting...” And that was just... totally unlike the woman he had married. 

She had stopped taking _pro bono_ work at the law firm, too, which was one of her passions, and something he had argued with her about in the past, not understanding why it was so important to her. He should be pleased about it, actually. 

Instead, he was unnerved. 

And don’t even get him started on the fact that they hadn’t shared a bed in weeks. And no explanations of why. Not that he had challenged her on it. It had been kind of a relief, to tell you the truth, and that was more than a little disturbing all on its own. 

Dave picked up the pills, dumped them in the glass of water, then carried it to the little bathroom attached to his office and poured it out into the toilet, flushing it all before rinsing out the glass and taking it back to his desk. He sat back down and stared at the phone. The urge to call John had been growing in recent days, and he had a sense of time running out. His eyes moved to the photo of Bethany and Johanna sitting on his desk. _They’re in danger, you know this. Call John, dammit!_

He reached for the phone General O’Neill had given him after John’s promotion ceremony and nearly jumped out of his skin when it shrilled under his hand. Staring at it, he blew out a breath, then picked it up with a shaking hand, pressing the button. “Dave Sheppard,” he said. 

“Hi Dave, it’s... John,” he heard his brother say, and closed his eyes at the relief that surged through him at the sound of his brother’s voice. “Look, I... what I have to say might sound a little _strange_ , but...” 

“John, something’s going on with Beth,” Dave said, deciding to cut through the bullshit and get straight to the point. “She’s... not the woman I married any more, and I think my girls are in danger. We... we need to get away.” 

He heard a gasp and felt a wry grin twist his mouth at the idea of shocking his brother. “Wow,” John said slowly. “Don’t hold back, Dave... tell me how you _really_ feel...” 

The laugh that rose in his throat was bitter, but the first one he’d had in days. “John... I’ve had these dreams... I gotta save Bee and Jo... and it all comes down to you.” 

John was silent for a moment, then he said, “Okay, first, how long is Beth going to be at her hair appointment?” 

“Three hours,” said Dave, his eyes closing with relief. “It always takes three hours.” 

“Okay,” said John. “Now, how long will it take you to pack up for them and yourself?” 

“Thirty, forty-five minutes,” said Dave, getting up and grabbing his laptop, closing it and shoving it into a protective sleeve. “Faster if I had help.” 

“All right. And last... how do you feel about not returning to Earth for... for a long time?” John sounded nervous. 

“If it meant my girls were safe?” said Dave, going still. “Absolutely fine, John.” 

“ _Jesus fuck_ , Dave,” said John, and Dave had no problem picturing John closing his eyes and leaning against something for support. “Okay. Okay. Is there a clear space in your office?” 

“Just a second,” said Dave, and he shoved his desk back against the wall, and the two chairs that had been there were pushed after it. “Now there is.” 

“Stand back. I’m beaming three Marines there to help you pack, plus a couple of crates. I’ll be there with a Jumper in ten, okay?” John sounded firm now. “And Dave?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Breathe, little brother. Just breathe.” 

Dave closed his eyes and leaned back against the desk, his brother’s voice like a lifeline in his ear. “Yeah... I can do that.” 

Light filled the room, and three armed Marines were standing there, two large packing containers behind them. They nodded at him and one lifted his hand to his ear to report in. 

Relief nearly made him limp. John had come through. 

“By the way,” said John, and Dave straightened. 

“Yeah?” 

“Did you give the girls those lockets Rodney made for them?” 

“Yes, I did,” said Dave with a little frown. “They wear them all the time, never take them off.” 

“Good,” said John, sounding relieved. “They have locater chips in them. I’ll have the _Apollo_ beam them straight to Atlantis right now, okay? That’s one last thing you have to worry about.” 

He sat down. “Okay. Okay, yeah... do that...” 

He heard John talking to someone else, then the high piping voices of his daughters were in the background. “Okay, they’re here, Dave. Get busy, I’ll see you in ten.” 

“Got it.” Now that Bee and Jo were safe, he could focus on what needed to be done here. 

Funny how the ever present thrum of the headache had gone away. 

 

 

 

It had been a good idea to have Teyla there when Bethany and Johanna appeared in the control room. The two little girls had shrieked in fright when they found themselves standing in the gateroom surrounded by Marines, and their hunched postures with their legs wide apart suggested they’d been riding when they’d been beamed out. 

John had moved toward them slowly, hands out. “Bee... Jo... it’s me, Uncle John. You remember me, don’t you?” 

Bethany stared at him doubtfully, but Johanna threw herself at him with a sob, her little arms wrapped so tightly around his waist that he feared for his kidneys. “Uncle John! Uncle John! We were riding Heffalump and Powder and then there was this big scary light, and then we were _here!!!_ ” 

“I know, kiddo, I know,” said John, stroking her back gently. He looked at Teyla, then at Bethany. “You okay?” 

Her lip was trembling and her eyes were brimming with tears, but Bethany was winking rapidly, stubbornly refusing to cry. “I’m okay, Uncle John,” she said shakily, her hands clutched together in front of her before she reached up to tug the strap of her helmet. “Where are we?” 

“You’re safe,” said Teyla gently, after a quick look at John. “And your father will be joining us shortly. Your Uncle John will be going to get him in a few minutes.” 

Bethany nodded abruptly, then took off her helmet before running a shaking hand through her hair in a gesture eerily reminiscent of John. “Is this... is this because of... Mom?” 

“She’s _not_ our mom, Bee!” said Johanna angrily, turning to glare at her sister as she stomped her foot, though she kept one hand fisted in John’s shirt. “She’s _not!_ I keep _telling_ you!” 

Bethany was trembling from head to foot, her lips pressed tightly together as she looked around the room, then looked at John and Teyla. “She’s... she’s not coming... is she?” 

“No,” said John carefully. “She’s not.” 

“Good,” said Bethany, and with a little sob, she went to John, wrapping one arm around her sobbing little sister, and the other around her uncle. “Because she’s not our mom,” she said into his shirt. “Not any more.” 

He held them for a long moment, kissing Bethany’s hair, and patting the riding helmet still on Johanna’s head. When they had calmed, he knelt to look at them. “I’m going to go get your dad. He’s been packing up your stuff, because the three of you are going to be living here with me, okay?” He looked into their faces as they nodded slowly. “Okay. Now, this,” and he turned them around, “is Teyla, and she’s going to take you to the mess hall for a snack, because _I_ think, and this is my personal opinion, mind, but _I_ think your first time being beamed from place to place by a spaceship should be celebrated with milk and chocolate chip cookies.” 

Johanna frowned. “ _Real_ chocolate chip cookies, or the store bought kind?” 

“Baked right here on Atlantis,” said John. “And they’re _this big!_ ” He held his hands out to demonstrate. 

“They really are very good, and quite large,” said Teyla softly, holding her hands out to them with a smile. 

Both girls eyed him dubiously, but they took Teyla’s proffered hands and allowed themselves to be led away. Bethany turned before they went through the door. “Dad’s okay? You promise?” 

“I promise, Bee,” said John. “I’m leaving to get him right now.” 

“Okay,” she said, her lips curving in an almost smile. “Tell him we’ll save some cookies for him.” 

“I’ll do that.” He waited until Teyla turned the corner with them, then turned to head for the Jumper Bay. He looked up at Lorne. “Have a team meet me at Jumper One.” 

“Already ahead of you, sir,” Lorne said. 

John nodded. The faster he got this done, the better. Because his sense of urgency was growing, and that couldn’t be a good thing. 

 


	21. You Get What You Need...

 

Dave had cause to be grateful to the three Marines John had sent him. Not only were they strong and seemingly tireless, but they kept him focused without being obvious about it, and at least two of them seemed to be oddly familiar with what a little girl would think was important.

Private Barnes had blushed profusely when he’d pointed out that Jo would likely want the squashed, rather beat up stuffed black cat on the chair by her bed rather than the horses that had been placed carefully on a shelf. 

Dave had paused with one of the horses in his hand. “What makes you say that?” 

“Well, sir,” Barnes had said, “that chair is in easy reach of the bed, where she can grab it if she has a bad dream and needs comfort. Those horses are up where she can see them,” he said, nodding at the horses, “but... they’re kinda dusty. So... she likes them, but... they’re not... _precious_ or anything...” 

Dave looked at them thoughtfully, thinking the dust was disturbing for an entirely different reason. Four months ago, Beth would never have let Johanna get away with not cleaning her room long enough for the horses to get _this_ dusty. 

Between the four of them, they managed to get the girls’ clothes packed up, their favorite toys and books (plus a few mementos Dave couldn’t bear to part with), plus a few things that Barnes and the other Marine, a Private Davis, seemed to have a sixth sense for finding. Until Davis pulled them out from a secret spot under her bed, Dave had no idea Bethany had a journal, much less _three_. “Worn spot on the carpet there,” said Davis with a nod. “Plus, that’s where my little sister kept hers.” 

“You have sisters?” Dave asked, rolling up the quilt his mother-in-law had made for Bee with her pillows and handing them to Barnes to put in the packing case. 

“One younger, two older, sir,” said Davis. “I also have two little brothers.” 

“I have two little sisters,” said Barnes. “One of the reasons the Colonel sent us.” He finished rolling up Johanna’s quilt and pillows and put them in, too. 

“And Sgt. Willis?” Dave picked up the girls’ “treasure boxes,” two wooden boxes that his father had given them to keep little trinkets and other precious objects in. 

Davis grinned. “He’s here to keep us on track.” He blinked when his radio clicked, then said, “Yes, Sergeant, I’ll tell him.” He looked at Dave. “Colonel Sheppard is here, sir.” 

“Excellent, I’ll go down and meet him.” 

“That’s fine, we’ll finish up here, sir,” said Barnes with a grin. 

Dave hurried down the stairs and tried not to laugh with relief when John came through the door. “Hey.” 

John looked up, and there was no mistaking the relief in his eyes. “Hey, yourself. The girls are fine and they said they’d save some cookies for you.” 

Dave laughed, then came down and grabbed the hand held out to him, pulling his brother in for a hug. John’s arms tightened around him for a moment, then he heard him say, “Almost over, Dave. Let’s get the packing wrapped up and you back to Atlantis.” 

“Yeah,” said Dave. He stepped back and nodded. “Yeah, so... let me get _my_ stuff packed. I mean, we’ve been working on the girls’ stuff, and that takes a surprising amount of time...” 

“I’ll help.” He looked at the Marines who’d come in with him. “Take perimeter, and report in every ten. Yeah,” he said at their surprised looks, “I know it’s a bit excessive, but... my gut is itching.” 

“Yes, sir,” and they all trotted back outside. 

Dave led the way upstairs, unable to quell the uneasiness that had risen anew at John’s words. “What do you think is going to happen?” he asked quietly. 

John followed him to the bedroom. “What kind of car does Beth drive? So I can let my men know, just in case.” 

Dave pulled out a suitcase and tried to ignore the fact that his brother was basically implying he thought Beth was capable of attacking them. “Silver Toyota Camry,” he said, laying it on the bed and opening it. “What should I take?” 

John finished talking into his radio. “Um... sturdy clothing. Jeans, khakis... well, okay, a suit or two if you want to dress to impress. Mr. Woolsey has a few suits he wears from time to time.” He went to the dresser and opened a drawer, starting to help. “Socks, underwear, shoes... jackets, a coat... hat. Sunscreen. Any medications you’re taking that you need...” 

Dave grimaced. “None, really. Beth had me see a doctor a few weeks ago because of some headaches I’ve been having, but the medication he prescribed made them _worse_... so I stopped taking it.” 

John paused with a frown. “Worse?” 

“Yeah.” Dave pulled out two pairs of running shoes, then a pair of more casual shoes and added them to the suitcase. “I... couldn’t think clearly at all, so... I stopped.” He shuddered. “It was freaking the girls out, and... well, that was enough to convince me to stop, you know?” 

John nodded. “How did Beth take that?” 

“She fussed, so... I pretended to keep taking them.” He sighed and finished packing the clothes, then reached into his dresser and pulled out a flat wooden box. “Mom’s jewelry,” he said, lifting it up for John to see. 

“You didn’t give it to Beth?” John looked surprised. 

“No,” said Dave. He packed it carefully under a pile of t-shirts. “Don’t know why, but... I felt Mom’s jewelry should go to any daughters I had. So... I put it all away in here.” 

“Okay. Anything else in here?” John looked around the room. 

Dave went to the closet and pulled out a couple of large file boxes. “Family photos,” he said, setting them on the bed. He went back for one more. “Last one. These are the old ones Grand-Dad used to show us.” 

“No way!” said John, looking all of ten years old again. “The ones that go all the way back to the Civil War?” 

“Yep,” said Dave with a grin. 

John grinned back and called for Barnes to come grab them and put them in the second crate. “Take two suits, Dave,” he said while they waited. “You never know.” 

“Yeah, you never know,” said Dave and he went back into the closet one more time. 

 

 

 

They were in the kitchen, packing pots, pans, and utensils Dave would need in the family quarters when one of the men on perimeter alerted John to the approach of a silver Toyota Camry. “License plate?” he asked tersely and repeated it to Dave, who nodded grimly. “Yep, that’s the one. Okay, fall back to the house. What’s her ETA?” 

“Judging by the traffic light she’s stopped at, seven minutes,” Smith said. 

“Understood.” John looked at Dave. “Ready?” 

“Yeah.” Dave went to one of the cabinets and grabbed four fat bags, handing them to Sgt. Willis. “Put this with the important stuff.” 

“What was that?” asked John, curious though he had a suspicion. 

“Coffee beans,” said Dave, grabbing the coffee maker and unplugging it, handing it to Davis. “Really expensive, ambrosia-like coffee beans that will make McKay my BFF for life.” He grinned at John’s startled look. “Besides, it’s Beth’s favorite, and I’m damned if I’m leaving $65 a pound coffee beans behind for a woman who was possibly trying to poison me or mind-control me or whatever the hell it was she was trying to pull.” 

“Can’t say fairer than that,” said John, stunned, but he understood. He’d already secured the bottle of pills for Carson to run tests on, as well as the carafe of water Beth had been using. “Let’s go.” 

Dave took one more look around the kitchen of the house he’d spent a great deal of his childhood in, and a lot of his married life. John quivered with nerves and the need to be _gone_ , but he understood. This hadn’t been home for him for years. Home was waiting for him, in Rodney’s arms... but he had grown up here. Dave was more attached than John was. But he couldn’t let Dave linger, and so he prodded him out the door and they were nearly at the cloaked Jumper when the silver Camry pulled up. Beth got out and frowned. “Dave? Where are you going?” 

“I’m leaving, Beth,” Dave said steadily as John kept him moving. 

“Dave? No, wait, you can’t! Dave, please,” she said, hurrying toward him, dropping her purse, “we can talk about this, darling, please!” 

“She’s never called me ‘darling’ in her life,” Dave muttered under his breath to John. Most of the Marines had already reported back and the Jumper was loaded, with four of them outside standing guard. 

“Keep moving,” said John softly. 

“Dave, please stop!” Beth said, running toward them, bringing her hands up. “John, leave Dave alone, let him talk to me, please!” 

“My mind is made up, Beth,” Dave said, turning to look at her as he neared the Jumper. “There’s nothing you can say to change my mind.” 

This was _so_ totally a bad idea, thought John as he caught Dave by the arm and tried to hustle him toward the Jumper. Only a few more feet to go and they’d be home free. 

“How about our daughters?” she said, stopping to stare at him with eerie calm. “Have you thought about them? If you don’t come back, I’ll make them pay for it.” 

Dave stopped, despite John’s hand on his arm. “Do you really think I’m so stupid I’d leave the girls here? With you? You’ve changed, Beth. I don’t know how or why, but you’ve changed, and there is no way in hell I’d leave Bee and Jo where you could get to them.” 

“I’m their _mother_ ,” Beth said, all pleading gone from her voice. “I know what’s best for them.” 

“No, sorry, you’re going to have to do better than that,” said Dave, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t know who you are, but you aren’t the woman I married, the woman who gave birth to them and raised them. You _look_ like her... but you’re not their mother.” He looked at John, who shook his head ever so slightly. “We’re going.” 

“I’m afraid I can’t let you leave,” she said calmly, bringing her hands up again, only this time, there was something in them. “I’m going to have to kill you now.” 

John didn’t wait, he shoved Dave the remaining five feet onto the Jumper’s waiting ramp and dove in after him as something hot slashed across his back. “Warning shots only!” he shouted and heard the P-90’s chatter before the Marines standing guard were in the Jumper and the door was closed with a thought. He staggered to the pilot’s chair and sat down. “Everyone, strap in, it’s gonna get hairy.” 

The Jumper was airborne, and it jerked. He looked down at the Camry and saw Beth kneeling behind it for cover, the strange weapon in her hands and aimed up at them in an oddly familiar manner. _Go!_ he told the Jumper and it practically quivered as it took off, shooting nearly straight up and through the atmosphere. Once they were leveled off, he turned to look at the pale face of his brother. “Has Beth had any sort of military training? Or worked as a cop?” 

“No,” said Dave, staring at John strangely. “She’s a lawyer, does a lot of _pro bono_ work. She won’t even look at a _Nerf_ gun, much less a real one.” 

“Well, she’s evidently gotten over that.” He ignored the hot crawling agony in his back and touched his radio. “Atlantis, this is Jumper One, coming in for landing. We’re coming in hot, may want to have a medical team standing by.” 

“John, how can you be...” 

“Shut up, Dave, I’ve got to concentrate,” John said tersely. He’d apologize later. Right now, he focused on keeping the Jumper steady until Atlantis could take over and bring it in. 

 

 

 

Rodney was in the Jumper Bay, standing next to Carson as the Jumper came in slowly. “What happened?” 

“Dunno,” Carson said, pulling on a pair of gloves. “He just said he was comin’ in hot, and to have a medical team standing by.” He looked at his team, then back at Rodney. “So... we wait.” 

The Jumper set down with a light thump, and Rodney grimaced. Something was wrong. John may have problems landing the city, but with the Jumpers, it was like a dance, and he always set them down light as a feather. Unless he was crashing it. 

The rear bay opened, and a Marine came out with his arm around another who had a pressure bandage on his arm. Two medics took over, and then more Marines came out, followed by a pale Dave. Dave spotted Rodney and he gestured frantically. “It’s John,” he said. “He took a hit to the back...” 

Carson practically sprang up the ramp with Rodney on his heels. “What happened?” he asked Dave as the man followed them back into the Jumper. 

“My wife somehow got her hands on a... ray gun or something and she shot up two Marines _and_ my brother,” Dave said grimly. 

Rodney surged ahead of him and was just in time to see Carson easing John forward in the seat, and he saw the bloody crease across John’s back. “What the fuck, John?” 

Carson looked up. “Rodney,” he said calmly and sternly, “calm down and get off the Jumper. I need to get him to medical, _now_.” He spoke into his own radio, and both doctor and patient disappeared in a flash of white light. 

Rodney swallowed hard. It was bad, if Carson felt the need to _beam_ John straight to the infirmary. 

 

 

 

Jack took in the little group sitting near the isolation room where Carson had stashed John Sheppard. It had been his suggestion, actually, that Carson put John in that particular room. Unbeknownst to the rest of the SGC, Jack had taken Radek aside and suggested shielding a few spaces in the city against Asgard beaming technology, including one or two rooms in the infirmary. Just a little extra insurance in case the city’s shield failed, or someone figured out how to get past it. You never knew when you’d have to keep a patient safe, especially considering what they now knew about Kinsey, more or less. So John was in a shielded room, and the _Daedelus_ was in orbit. Just in case. 

“Anything?” 

As usual, Daniel seemed to have appeared out of nowhere at his elbow. 

“Nope,” he said, taking the cup Daniel handed to him and taking a sip. “What is this? Tea?” 

“Something like that, yeah,” said Daniel, sipping from his own cup. “Just enough caffeine to keep you going, but not enough to send your heart into overdrive.” 

“Huh. Tasty,” Jack said, frowning into the cup for a moment before taking another experimental sip and pondering it. “Okay.” 

“Yeah?” Daniel was grinning. 

“Yeah.” Jack smiled back, then nodded toward the group outside Sheppard’s room. “Haven’t talked to Carson yet. I was just... you know... gathering my thoughts.” He lifted the folder in his hands. “Went over Carson’s notes, and... yeah.” 

“Yeah.” Daniel looked down for a moment, then pushing up his glasses, he stared at Jack for a moment, then said, “You know... he’s going to be okay. I mean... Carson’s one of the best, if not _the_ best...” 

“Thing is, we don’t know what was in that thing Beth Sheppard used to shoot him,” Jack cut in, then he sighed, raising a hand and laying it lightly on his partner’s shoulder in apology. “It’s just... these... _things_ that Carson mentions in his report...” 

“Did you read the part where he mentions that John’s ATA gene seems to be playing a role in keeping them from spreading?” Daniel asked calmly. 

“No. Didn’t get that far,” Jack said, taking a quick look at Daniel, who nodded at the folder, eyebrows raised. Knowing Daniel would persist until he looked, Jack went back to the report and read through until he found the part Daniel meant. “Huh. Wow. Okay, so...” 

“So... he’s going to be okay,” said Daniel slowly, and when Jack looked back up at him, a slow smile spread across his face. “Okay?” 

Jack smiled back. “Fine. Have it your way.” 

“Of course. Now do you feel up to talking to John’s family?” 

Jack frowned. “What... Dave and his girls?” 

Daniel snorted. “Jack... John’s team is part of his family. And the people attached to _them_ are part of his family, too. It’s not just Dave Sheppard and his girls.” He turned to look at the group of people sitting and standing outside the room. “He’s... got a pretty big family now, wouldn’t you say?” 

Jack looked at Teyla, and Ronon with his arm around Alicia Banks, Jeannie with little Roddy in her arms as she leaned back against Kaleb, Rodney with his ever present laptop sitting closest to the door and peeking in when he could while Maddy sat on the floor by his feet, knees drawn up and nose deep in a book. Radek sat nearby, laptop open on his knees, though he stopped for long moments to study Rodney and then peer through the door before muttering to himself and looking back down at his laptop. Dave Sheppard paced back and forth, stopping to talk quietly with his daughters, or one of the other adults who were waiting for word. 

Yeah, Daniel was right. John Sheppard had somehow amassed himself a family, and it looked like a good, solid one, too. 

Jack felt Daniel’s big hand sliding into the crook of his elbow, giving him a firm squeeze. “You have a family, too, Jack. Think about it.” When he shot his lover a startled look, Daniel smiled. “We have two kinds of family, Jack. The family we’re born to, and the family we make. The one we choose for ourselves. And you know, Jack... I think we’ve chosen a pretty good family for ourselves.” 

“For ourselves?” Jack turned and slipped his hands around Daniel’s firm waist and pulled the man closer, smirking as he looked into the blue, blue eyes. 

“Yeah,” said Daniel with a lazy smile. “Sam. Tealc’. Cassie. Cam. Vala. Our long lost Janet,” and they both sighed for the loss of their brilliant friend. “And now, we’ve added John and Rodney. Jeannie and Kaleb... maybe. Definitely Madison,” and Jack laughed with him. 

“Yeah, she’s a little firecracker, isn’t she?” She’d already scammed Jack out of two boxes of Fruit Loops, though he was pretty sure her mother had no idea. He looked at Daniel’s mischief filled eyes, then back into the infirmary. “Yeah, okay, I’ll buy it. Family. Now, I gotta figure out a way to talk to... our extended family about... well... the very weird orders I just got.” 

“Orders? What sort of orders? From whom?” The mischief was replaced with a frown of concern. “Jack?” 

“Orders... to send John to... a _special_ hospital for... _examination_.” He didn’t have to explain any of it, he could tell by Danny’s outraged expression. “Don’t worry, I have no intention of sending him anywhere, and that’s why I instructed Carson to put John in a shielded room. And why I told Radek to make sure the city’s shield is locked down tight. No one’s getting in or out of this city until I figure out what this is all about.” 

They both turned to look as Carson came out of John’s room, and sent Rodney in. The doctor met Jack’s eyes and nodded, giving him a thumb’s up. Whatever the crisis had been, it was past, and Jack let out a sigh of relief. He rubbed Daniel’s back soothingly. “Come on. Let’s go talk to our... family.” 

Funny how good it felt to say that. 

 


	22. Chapter 22

 

Rodney sat in the chair by the bed, eyes focused on John’s face. He’d been placed in the bed on his stomach, his back bare to the room. If Rodney lifted his chin just a bit, he could see over the sheet draped over John’s hips to where an angry red slash with blackened edges crossed John’s back from his waist to his left shoulder.

It looked better than it had two hours ago. 

Two hours ago, it had been bloody and pulsing, and John had been as close to screaming as Rodney had ever heard him. John didn’t scream. He roared through gritted teeth, except this time, it was hoarse and had a more desperate edge than ever before. John had fought the nurses and orderlies trying to hold him down while Carson attempted to complete his examination. Of course, Carson had literally shoved Rodney out of the room at that point and Rodney’d found himself standing outside, feeling completely lost and helpless. 

It had been Ronon, surprisingly, who’d wordlessly brought Rodney his laptop and a chair, leading him to the wall just outside John’s room and setting him up so he was close, but out of the way. Then he’d stood over Rodney, silent and watchful until Banks had joined them, bringing Rodney a cup of coffee and a squeeze of the shoulder before she went to join Ronon in his vigil. 

Teyla had brought him a sandwich, telling Rodney firmly to eat before nodding quietly at him and going to sit nearby. 

He’d buried himself in going over the new power utilization readings and what new systems were coming online, looking up occasionally to watch personnel and equipment going in and out of the shielded room. He’d been genuinely surprised to feel a weight against his leg at one point and looked down to find Madison curled up by his feet, one arm around his leg as she read the latest Percy Jackson book, the result of John having access to Amazon and a credit card. Startled, he’d looked up to find Jeannie watching him, Roddy sleeping in her arms, and then Kaleb had joined them, reaching over to squeeze Rodney’s shoulder and tousle Madi’s hair before going to wrap his arms around his wife and sleeping son. Dave Sheppard came out of one of the other exam rooms with his girls, his face worn and tired. He saw Rodney and led his girls over, nodding at Jeannie and Teyla before turning to Rodney. He looked like he wanted to speak, but instead, he settled on pacing restlessly before stopping to peer into the room, only to start pacing again. 

His daughters had joined Madison on the floor. 

It had been oddly comforting, to be sitting in the midst of these people, all of them connected by knowing John, almost like... family. Rodney pondered that as he stared at John’s sleeping face, still creased with pain even though Carson had assured him that John was dosed to the gills and shouldn’t feel anything. 

The laptop was closed as it sat in his lap, his hands folded over the edge. John was muttering agitatedly, his fingers fluttering and flexing, and Rodney wondered what invisible enemies his lover was trying to bargain with, recognizing the motions of those agile hands even in his unconscious state. 

“He’s gonna pull through, Rodney.” 

He looked up to find Carson standing next to him, a rod in his hands. “What’s that?” 

Carson sighed. “Moments after we’d put the Colonel in the scanner, trying to figure out what had caused his wounds, the wall lit up and several drawers slid out. There were six of these in one of them, and the Ancient database was up on a screen, with a full explanation of what these wee rods can do and what they’re for.” 

“And?” Rodney held out his hand for the device, which lit up the moment it touched his palm. 

“It’s a healing wand, completely different from Telchak’s device that caused so much trouble...” Carson watched Rodney examine it minutely and sighed. “It... interacted with John’s ATA gene in a way I’ve never seen before, almost like it was... _ordering_ John’s immune system to fight the... well... I almost don’t know what to call ‘em...” 

“Call what?” asked Rodney sharply, looking up at Carson. Then he frowned, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “You _kept_ something from me,” he said slowly. 

“Rodney, I didnae want yeh to panic,” the doctor said, holding up his hands. “It’s just... the wee beasties _almost_ looked like... _nanites_ , but when I put them under the scanner, it’s clear they’re organic, and... y’know, they remind me of that implant we studied at the SGC...” 

“Show me,” said Rodney, standing abruptly. 

“Rodney...” 

Rodney pointed back at the bed where John was starting to stir, his muttering getting louder. “Did it ever occur to you that whatever it is that he’s fighting, if I got a look at it, or hell, even _Radek_ , we might be able to help??” 

Carson blinked, then sighed. “Yeh’re right, Rodney... dunno what I was thinking...” 

“Clearly, you weren’t,” Rodney said caustically, then he winced when Carson’s brow creased with hurt. He waved his hands. “Look, I’m sorry, I’m... stressed...” 

“I know,” said Carson, laying a light hand on Rodney’s arm. “Let me call Teyla in to sit with him, and then you and Radek can come look at what I found. We’ll... figure this out, Rodney.” 

“We have to,” said Rodney bitterly. “Because we have two days before we’re set to leave, and if John’s out, then _you’ll_ be the one flying us back to Pegasus.” 

He couldn’t quite bring himself to laugh at the alarmed expression on the doctor’s face. If that wasn’t incentive enough for Carson to pull a miracle out of his hat, Rodney didn’t know what else would work. 

 

 

 

There was a knock on the door of his office, and Jack grimaced. He hated being in Washington, but when the president summoned you to the White House, you didn’t ignore it. He didn’t mind that part so much as he minded the everyone knowing where he was part. The fact that his aide, a man as imperturbable a guardian as Walter Harriman at the SGC, had been convinced to knock on Jack’s door and disturb him _despite_ his snarled order of “I’m not in, even if the damn president calls,” told him it was urgent. And he probably wasn’t going to like it, whatever or whomever it was. 

Grimacing at the folder he’d been trying to ignore since he’d sat down, he finally barked, “Come,” at the door. 

It opened, and Master Sergeant Wilson stuck his head in. “Agent Johnson to see you, sir.” 

Jack frowned. “Send him in.” 

Wilson nodded and stepped back to let Jack’s visitor enter, and Jack watched the man come in and stand in front of his desk, sunglasses firmly in place, one hand grasping the wrist of the other, which was held in a fist. Typical. Amused despite his irritation, Jack gestured at the chair in front of his desk. “Sit down, Agent Johnson. Tell me, what brings the head of the president’s Secret Service detail to my office?” 

Johnson grimaced and took off his sunglasses, revealing a pair of light green eyes and Jack suddenly realized in the two years he’d known the man, he’d never seen his eyes before. It was kinda freaky. 

“The President asked me to come give you a warning, General O’Neill,” Johnson said, and he nodded at the folder on Jack’s desk. “I see you haven’t read your orders from the Pentagon yet.” 

“No, I haven’t,” said Jack, deliberately not picking the folder up. “I have a feeling it’ll just piss me off.” 

“Guaranteed, sir,” said Johnson somberly. “They’re going to try to force you to send Colonel Sheppard to Area 51, and from there, he’ll be removed to a top secret facility that even the President doesn’t have oversight of.” Then he waited for the impact of what he’d just said to sink in. 

Jack felt like someone had just gut-punched him. “Huh,” he said finally. “Well... good luck at trying to get at Sheppard. He’s secure on Atlantis.” 

“They have plans,” Johnson said. Then he leaned forward. “The President gave me this to give to you,” and he held the hand that he’d kept fisted over Jack’s desk and opened it. A hand-wrapped fishing lure dropped onto the desk, and Jack stared at it in shock. Long before, Jack and President Hayes had established a way to signal the other of potential trouble and problems using their mutual love of fishing. The trout fly lying on Jack’s desk was as loud and clear as a signal bell and told Jack exactly what he needed to know. 

He met Johnson’s clear green eyes. Johnson nodded once, and Jack stood abruptly, touching his intercom. “Sgt. Wilson, did you call in that order of Pad Thai for lunch yet?” 

“No, sir,” came the answer, and then the door opened, and Wilson was there in a heartbeat, coming around the desk to stand next to Jack. “Office secure, sir,” he said calmly, though Jack could see the pulse at his throat speeding up. 

“Any place we can drop you, Agent Johnson?” Jack asked as he picked up his hat. 

Johnson put on his sunglasses and stood, then came to stand on the other side of Jack. “The White House, sir.” 

Jack nodded, and touched the emergency transponder in the locket McKay had made for him. “ _Daedelus_ , O’Neill, table for three, _Bug Out!_ ” 

White light filled the office, and when a group of armed men burst through the door moments later, there was no one left there to find. 

 

 

 

“See, Rodney, I told you,” said Carson, pointing to the screen of his laptop, “it _has_ to have something to do with his ATA gene. Somehow, it’s keeping the daft little buggers contained... they haven’t been able to spread past the original wound.” 

“Yes, but _why?_ ” said Rodney, frowning thoughtfully at both Carson’s laptop and his own, comparing what he was seeing. “I mean, the ATA gene isn’t a magic bullet... it has to be interacting with something, John must be doing it instinctively, or on an unconscious level somehow...” 

“It’s the city,” Radek said slowly, staring at his own computer. He stood and when both men stared at him, he flushed, but waved his hands. “ _Ano_ , it is the city, it is Atlantis, she is using the Colonel’s ATA gene... somehow... look at these readings!!” 

“Just like... twas the city that brought out those healing wands!” said Carson, eyes wide as he stared at Rodney. “She brought them out to use on John... I just wasn’t sure _how_ , but... look here!” and he pointed at a second window popping up on his screen with schematics and what looked like a step by step tutorial on what to do. “Rodney... are you seeing... what I’m seeing?” 

Rodney was staring at Carson’s laptop before turning back to Radek and staring at the graphic display of the new power readings coming from the central computer core. “This... is... fantastic, and... just a little creepy...” 

The lights flickered alarmingly, and Rodney jumped a little before saying, “Uh, did I say creepy? I meant... _amazing_... utterly _amazing_...” 

The lights brightened and went to normal, and Rodney let out a nervous little laugh before eying Carson and Radek wildly. “I’m losing my mind, aren’t I?” he whispered semi-frantically. 

Radek looked up at the ceiling before moving closer to Rodney and leaning down. “No, you are not,” he said softly before looking at both his boss and the doctor. “No, I think... I think Atlantis would do anything to... keep Colonel Sheppard safe. She... values him.” 

“Well,” said Carson thoughtfully, even as he nervously eyed the walls around them, “he _does_ have the strongest expression of the ATA gene we’ve seen, and he’s the closest thing to an Ancient we have...” 

“Yeah,” said Rodney slowly. He turned Carson’s laptop toward himself, reading through the information and beginning to snap his fingers. “Nanites!” 

“ _Nanites?_ ” Carson looked alarmed, but Rodney waved his hands at him. “Rodney, I already told you, they’re not nanites. They’re organic. Besides, the last time we encountered nanites...” 

“No, no, no,” he said, “Carson, listen to me! Medical nanites. Atlantis uses them, think about it! How else do we heal so quickly? She’s been using them on us for... well, at least three years that I can think of.” He frowned, getting up to go to Radek’s laptop, studying the readouts there before going back to his. “Evidently, the Ancients finally were able to make a type of nanite that is... harmless or... stays inert until it’s needed or...” 

“You are _very_ much over-thinking this, Rodney,” Radek said calmly. “I don’t think...” 

“How else are these... _things_... whatever they are, being contained?” Rodney glared at Radek angrily. “It _has_ to be medical nanites! No other explanation makes sense!” 

Radek’s expression was just short of sullen, his jaw jutting out with frustration. “Why are you so frightened at the idea of the city being responsible, Rodney?” he asked with deceptive mildness. “It is well established fact that Atlantis functions best for Colonel Sheppard, it would therefore seem to follow that the city would want to ensure...” 

“No!” Rodney cut in sharply, almost breathless with the need to cut Radek off. “No,” he said, after taking a deep breath to calm himself, wrapping his arms around himself as he started pacing, “no, the city is _not_ sentient, we’ve already established that!” He finished that with a glare at the Czech engineer. “There is no _reason_ , therefore, to put forth a supposition that the city is actively working to ... _save_ J... Colonel Sheppard. It... must be an automatic protocol, when someone of... sufficient rank in the city’s... command structure or... whatever... is... _incapacitated_ ,” and he waved his hands as he paced, “or... is _injured_... the _medical nanites_ are somehow... _instructed_ to... go about their duties healing the sick person. Official. Whatever.” 

Radek snorted and shook his head as he typed something rapidly into his laptop’s keyboard. “Whatever, Rodney. If that is what you wish to believe, who am I to puncture the bubble of your delusions. Except,” and he turned his laptop’s screen toward Rodney with a smirk, “there are no nanites in Colonel Sheppard’s body. Nothing, except the strange... nano-organisms.” 

Rodney froze, staring at the screen and he moved closer, peering at it intently, his face suddenly focused and almost hard. Carson said later that he felt he could almost hear Rodney’s brain _buzzing_ , the man was thinking so hard. 

At this moment, though, Carson was watching him breathlessly, all of them were watching Rodney, practically perched on the edge of their seats, watching him teetering on the brink of one of the cognitive leaps he was so famous for, his body practically vibrating with concentration and focus as his brain worked rapidly through several seemingly unrelated facts, all coming together to form a synthesis... 

His head came up as several things in his mind fit together and went _click_. 

“The Ascension machine,” he said, his eyes focusing with laser sharpness on Carson’s face. “We need it. Now.” 

Carson’s mouth fell open. “Rodney,” he said, stunned. “Rodney... that machine... you nearly _died!_ You’ll think of something, you dinnae need to risk yer life again...” 

“No,” said Rodney, grabbing his laptop and tablet. “ _John_ needs the Ascension machine. Come on, Radek, Atlantis needs to give John a bigger boost than she can at the moment, and the circuitry in the Ascension machine is exactly what she needs.” 

Radek blinked, frowning intently, then his face cleared with astonishment. “Rodney,” he said breathlessly, then began babbling in Czech as he grabbed his things and hurried after his boss. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I know... come on, we have a lot of work to do and not much time to do it in.” It was all Rodney could do not to grab Radek and run with him. Now that he knew what was needed, he wanted to do it _now_. Because John needed it. Now. 

 


	23. Lost in the Dark...

 

Dr. Daniel Jackson enjoyed a unique position at the SGC. He wasn't soldier… but he'd done the field training after one too many mishaps left him at the mercy of thugs with guns. His grandfather had once told him that intelligence wasn't enough, it was how one _used_ that intelligence that sometimes made the difference.

Daniel's intelligence told him to learn how to use the standard weapons used by the soldiers serving in the SGC, and how to defend himself. 

He also realized that even though most of those soldiers had learned to respect his mind, they also considered him pretty much a trouble magnet and Jack O'Neill's personal damsel in distress. That was embarrassing, to say the least, and was incentive enough for him to do what was necessary to learn how to get himself _out_ of trouble, and gain their respect. 

They still considered him O'Neill's damsel in distress, but at least he was a damsel that could kick ass, thanks to the training they gave him once they realized how serious he was about it. 

While he preferred to bury himself in his books and artifacts, translating obscure languages, or studying the notes of the anthropologists who went through the gate, Daniel had a sufficiently high rank in the SGC's structure that he could take command when necessary. Mostly, though, Daniel focused on the academic side of SGC life and let Jack and Sam do the leading and throwing political weight around, Teal'c and Cam be the deceptively smart brawn, and Vala steal the socks off people and charm them into buying them back from her for 75% more than they originally paid. 

It all seemed to work better that way, anyway. 

Life, however, often forced him to step outside of his academic role and it was a lesson he'd learned well. And just like he had with taking the training to learn how to function in the SGC’s military structure, Daniel had taken steps to ensure that when he was forced to take advantage of his rank and be the man in charge, he'd be more than capable of handling it. 

Therefore, when the mountain was surrounded by armed black-garbed soldiers in TAC vests and assault gear, Daniel immediately ordered Walter to initiate the ZPM powered shield that sealed off every entrance into the Mountain, starting a lock-down that General Hammond and Jack had worked out long ago with the rest of the operations in Cheyenne with the words, “ _Shield Protocol, Code Black_.” The Ancient facility in Antarctica and what was left of Area 51 went into lockdown and the _Daedelus_ and the _Apollo_ went on high alert status. 

Daniel picked up the red phone in Jack's office and when the line was answered, he said, "This is Dr. Daniel Jackson, code DJXN-Alpha 4 4 9 Charlie Baker 7. The mountain is _sealed_ , your status is _at risk_ , the _disobedient son_ is prepared to _light your path_." 

" _Understood_ ," replied President Hayes, his voice startled. " _Light the path_ , Dr. Jackson." 

Daniel gave the order, and the _Daedelus_ beamed the president up. 

He shared a look with Sgt. Harriman, who nodded. "Two teams are ready to go up with you, sir," he said, and Daniel nodded. 

"Any word on Jack?" 

"The _Daedelus_ beamed him up ten minutes ago and sent him on to Atlantis, sir," Walter said, looking up from his screen. "Security reports there's a delegation of men and women heading for the entrance. They seem to be… unaware of the shield, sir." 

"That's a good thing," Daniel said almost absently, his mind working fast. "It means we have no leaks among the team that worked on installing it." He finished typing in the orders, hit _send_ , and closed his laptop. "Okay, Walter, you know the drill…" 

"Yes, sir," said Walter Harriman, standing up as well. "We'll wait for your signal." 

Daniel nodded and headed for the door. “Have Teal’c and Cam meet with me upstairs. We’ll see what they want and go from there.” 

“Will do, sir,” said Walter, and he headed toward the gateroom, already giving orders over his radio. 

Daniel headed for the elevator and took in a deep breath, then let it out as he got on. “Okay,” he said to himself as he pressed the button to go up, “here goes.” 

 

 

 

Rodney had time to thank all the powers that be that he had assigned Radek to disassemble the Ascension machine and not one of his other minions. Radek, being an engineer, and a methodical and orderly one at that, had not taken the machine apart entirely, but mainly disassembled the power unit, and the main drive. He had also very carefully made a diagram of how the parts fit together, as well as a map of where each piece was stored and then very carefully hidden both the map and the main power crystal in separate places and left them alone. This made putting the Ascension machine back together much easier and quicker than Rodney had anticipated. 

It also made him resolve to buy the Czech a lifetime supply of whatever coffee he wanted. 

“You have the Kusanagi working on the nano-organisms?” Radek asked as he painstakingly re-attached the leads to the crystal housing unit. 

“Yes, and stop calling her that,” muttered Rodney as he frowned over the power unit. “Did you have to take it apart like this?” 

“Yes,” said Radek frankly, looking up as he pushed his glasses up his nose. “Best way to keep idiots from playing with it.” 

Rodney stared at him. “What?” 

Radek sighed and sat up. “I took the machine apart, as you ordered. I figured if anyone but you tried to put it back together, it would be under the IOA’s orders, and thus not a good reason to put together. I kept the instructions separate for that reason. If _you_ putting it together, it would be for a good reason, and so... I took it apart in a way that you, and only you, could fix it.” He waved his hand over the unit. “And you are doing it to save the Colonel’s life, so... good reason!” 

Rodney couldn’t help laughing, and he shook his head as he got back to work, the puzzle of how the power unit had been taken apart making much more sense. “Radek, have I ever told you how glad I am that you’re working on _our_ side?” 

The only answer he got was a hearty laugh, but that was good enough for Rodney. 

 

 

 

Daniel used the ride up the elevator to calm himself. Jack was safe, everyone he loved and cared about was either in the mountain or on Atlantis. He could do this. 

“Waiting your orders, sir,” said the Marine colonel who was waiting for him when he came off the elevator. The tag on the man’s pocket said, “Branson.” 

Daniel took the pad offered him and looked over the checklist quickly before handing it back. “Everyone’s on the same page, Colonel Branson?” 

“Yes, Dr. Jackson, “ Branson said, falling into step with him and obviously trying not to show he was bothered by the solid bulk of Teal’c walking behind them. “NORAD is in lockdown, as well as the other departments. All their personnel have been accounted for and are confined to their specific areas. We have SGC personnel up at the main gate and on perimeter. The explanation going out is it’s a readiness drill and our people are the monitors.” 

“Good.” Daniel stepped through the massive blast door that led into the heart of the mountain and tried not to feel like he should be ducking back behind it. Right now, his people were depending on him and he wasn’t going to let them down if he could help it. “How far have the intruders managed to get?” 

“They’re all at the front gate,” said Branson, leading him to where the monitors had been set up. “They’ve spread out, but they’re all basically set up right at the gate. It’s almost like they don’t realize...” 

Daniel held up his hand, halting him. “And we don’t want them to, either.” He studied the images of the people outside the mountain, frowning over their formation. “Teal’c... does that look... familiar to you?” 

The big Jaffa leaned over to look, and his eyebrows went up in surprise. “Indeed, I have, DanielJackson. And yet, I can safely say that it is not a formation commonly used by the System Lords.” He met Daniel’s eyes steadily. “The edges of the Milky Way, DanielJackson.” 

“That’s... what I was afraid of,” Daniel said, straightening. He turned to Branson. “Have they tested the shield yet?” 

“No, sir,” said Branson. “It’s like they’re just... waiting.” He was clearly disturbed by this. 

“Yeah,” said Daniel. He cleared his throat, staring at the monitors for a moment. “Okay,” he said finally, looking at Colonel Branson and Teal’c. “Let’s suit up and find out what they want.” 

“Indeed,” said Teal’c calmly. 

“I’ll get a squad together to escort you,” said Branson, saluting sharply before he turned and left. 

Daniel turned back to Teal’c, grateful for the presence and support of his friend. “I hope I know what I’m doing,” he said softly. 

Teal’c studied his face for a moment, then inclined his head. “You have grown over the years, Daniel,” he said gently. “Your experiences have brought you here, to this place and this time. You know what you must do, and I have faith that you will do it well.” He held his hand out to Daniel, his lips curved in the slightest of smiles that might as well have been a big grin. 

Strangely, that made him feel much better. He gripped Teal’c’s forearm firmly, feeling the answering grip that for once, didn’t hurt. “Thanks, big guy,” he said, slapping Teal’c’s shoulder. 

Teal’c nodded. “You are most welcome.” He turned to watch the Marines forming up near the door. “This will prove most interesting.” 

“Yeah,” said Daniel, feeling determination filling his gut. “Yeah, it will.” 

 

 

 

_He didn’t recognize where he was at all. He had no memory of ever coming to a world like this, and he didn’t like it. Not. One. Bit._

_They had trapped him in what felt like a dead end alley, except there were no garbage tips or boxes, or homeless people. Instead, there were short scrubby looking weeds that tripped him as he tried to run, none of them big enough to hide behind. There was_ nothing _he could hide behind. Nothing._

_He’d already tried reasoning with the hooded figures, but they weren’t interested in reasoning. They weren’t interested in discussion, period. They’d tried driving him to his knees, to open his mind to them, and there was just no way he was going to do that. No way at all. Rodney would never forgive him if he did that._

_He didn’t think he’d be able to forgive himself, to tell the truth._

_He could hear them coming, realizing how neatly they’d herded him here where there was no escape. No escape, no hiding, just six blank walls..._

_Six??_

_“Colonel Sheppard.”_

_He turned and found himself surrounded. One of the hooded figures had separated from the rest and drew close to him, and he prepared himself for more pain. “You do not wish to assimilate with us? To become one with us?”_

_“No, I don’t,” he said bluntly. “I like my mind just fine the way it is.”_

_Human hands lifted and pushed back the hood and he frowned as he stared into a human face. All around, as there had always been since he’d first found himself in this strange place, he could hear a chittering sound, as if of insects. It was vaguely annoying, and made him want to rub his head. It was as if a heavy..._ something, _like an oppressive cloud, was pressing down on him, trying to force him... he shook his head and thrust himself back against the wall. “I... will... NOT ... kneel!!” he gritted out between clenched teeth. “Fuck... off... Kinsey!!!”_

_Robert Kinsey’s heavily lined face came out of shadow as he stepped forward, mouth twisted in a cruel smirk. “Oh, but I plan to fuck with your_ mind, _Colonel Sheppard,” Kinsey said, eyes flicking negligently over his face and throat. He leaned in close to John until his lips were next to John’s ear. “And before I am done, you will beg to kneel, Colonel. You’ll_ beg _to kneel...”_

_John drove a knee up into Kinsey’s unprotected belly and shoved him away, running at the hooded figures that parted like smoke in front of him. He ran, hoping like hell that wherever he was, Rodney was working on this, working on a way to get John out of... wherever the fuck this was._

_Wild laughter followed him. “Run, run, run, little Colonel!!”Kinsey’s voice mocked from seemingly everywhere. “It makes it so much more exciting for me! Please, do run! It’ll make it so much better when I finally catch you...”_

_“Fuck you!” John growled, running into the endless gray. He had to keep it together. He had to stay strong. He had to trust Rodney._

_As he ran, the chittering grew louder..._

 


	24. Till I tear the walls, till I save your heart...

 

The Ascension machine was working, as far as they could tell by the diagnostics, and Miko Kusanagi was practically dancing with excitement over what she’d found. “Dr. McKay, Dr. McKay,” she said, rushing to him, tablet in hand. “Those organisms... I was working with Dr. Stewart in microbiology, and we found something!”

It was all he could do not to snatch the tablet away from her. Instead, he turned to her immediately. “What? What is it?” 

She was beaming as she turned the tablet to show him. “It is, indeed, a micro-organism, and it is... somewhat sentient. But very limited in that sentience. And,” she tapped the screen so Rodney could see, and he nearly laughed, “very vulnerable to certain things. Like... ultraviolet light. EM fields. Ancient tech...” 

He turned to stare at her. “They have no idea.” 

“No,” she said, practically grinning with glee. “They don’t. Or they would have done something to protect themselves.” 

Radek started to chuckle, and they turned to look at him. “What?” 

The chuckle turned to outright chortling. “The dreams. They’re always trying to _activate_ Ancient technology...” 

Miko caught on and started to giggle. Rodney, however, frowned. 

“What?” asked Radek, trying to calm himself. “What is it, Rodney?” 

“That... doesn’t make sense.” He shook his head. “Why would they be trying to activate Ancient tech... if they’re vulnerable to it?” 

“Maybe,” said Radek slowly, “they’re not trying to activate it so much as they’re trying to... understand it?” 

“Understand it,” said Rodney, clicking his fingers rapidly as he processed what he was seeing on Miko’s tablet. “Understand it... so they can... control it? No, no,” he mumbled, pacing as he ran through several ideas in his head and discarded them as quickly as they materialized. “No, not control it... they’re... studying it... maybe they know it’s a threat, and they want to... stop it... no, no... not _stop_ it, because they do want to use it, so they want... no, no, no...” he stopped frowning as he tried to relax, to let his subconscious rise and complete the process. 

Then it hit him. He turned to stare at Radek, eyes wide. “They want to know how to negate its effects, so they can get around it.” 

They stared at each other, processing it, then Radek said hoarsely, “We must finish the adjustments on the Ascension machine and get the Colonel in it. Now.” 

Their deadline had moved up. 

 

 

 

Daniel Jackson walked out to the edge of the shield and stood there for a moment, looking out at the black garbed men and women standing just beyond the gate. _Okay, showtime_ , he thought, clearing his thoughts with a deep breath, and lifting his chin. “I am Dr. Daniel Jackson, and I am in command here. What is it that you want?” 

One of the soldiers moved forward, never raising his face mask, but his voice was clear. “We want nothing, Dr. Jackson. We are simply waiting.” 

Daniel felt Cam’s hand on his back, lending strength as he tried to make sense of those words. “What are you waiting for?” 

What could be seen of the soldier’s mouth curved up in an unpleasant smile. “You will see. Atlantis will be ours, and you will have to let down your shield. We shall wait.” He tilted his head. “Soon, we shall have Sheppard, and then we shall have you. All... of you.” 

 

 

 

Jack O’Neill, listening from aboard the _Daedelus_ , turned to Colonel Caldwell and the President, frowning. “Just what the hell does that mean?” 

“I suspect, Jack,” said Henry Hayes, with a heavy sigh, “that it is related to those ridiculous orders you received from the Pentagon. Whatever was done to Colonel Sheppard, they expect it to succeed. He will be under their control.” 

“Like _hell_ he will!” Jack stalked over to the comm officer. “Open a line to Atlantis!” When the man nodded, Jack touched his radio. “Atlantis, this is Major General O’Neill, security code diddly wee bop ree bop scooby doo.” 

“Major General O’Neill, this is Atlantis, your security code is received. Guess what, America, we love you,” came the reply, a hint of laughter in Chuck’s voice. 

“O’Neill, what the hell?” asked Hayes, a smile dancing about his lips. 

“Just...extremely serious military stuff, Mr. President, you wouldn’t understand,” said Jack, sharing a look with Caldwell, who cleared his throat and looked away discreetly. Turning his attention back to the comm, Jack shook himself. “What is Colonel Sheppard’s status?” 

“Still fighting,” said Chuck, all laughter gone from his voice. “Dr. McKay and Dr. Zelenka have a solution and should be implementing it shortly.” 

“Well, tell them to put the pedal to the medal. Apparently, our guests outside the mountain expect to have him under their control sooner rather than later,” Jack said, sharing a look with Stephen again. What he wouldn’t say to Chuck or anyone else on Atlantis was that if it came to it, they’d beam Sheppard away from Atlantis and into a secured brig before they allowed that to happen. At least, they hoped they could. 

“Understood, General, Atlantis out.” 

“General,” and Jack turned to look at Stephen Caldwell, who looked troubled. “Jack... are we sure we can beam Sheppard out if Atlantis doesn’t want us to?” 

“I hope so, Stephen,” said Jack, feeling old. “At least, I hope I can convince her to let us do it.” 

No one mentioned what would happen if Jack couldn’t. 

 

 

 

_He could_ feel _Rodney. Fleeting touches of Rodney’s presence, like flutters against his skin, or hearing Rodney’s voice enough to know he was ranting at someone, but not enough to understand the words. It was just enough to let him know that the grayness surrounding him wasn’t real, that it was all in his mind._

_It didn’t make it any less dangerous._

_”It is useless for you to try to hide from us, Colonel,” said Kinsey from somewhere on his left, far too close for John’s comfort. He didn’t move to the right, though, knowing they were trying to herd him somewhere_ they _wanted him, and he wasn’t going to fall for it. Instead, he backed up. “After all, we are the ones in control here.”_

_He didn’t answer, moving back and then running to the left, keeping himself low. A chuckle directly in front of him made him stop and start moving to his right. “Maybe it hasn’t occurred to you that while it is misty and gray here for you, for us it is perfectly clear?”_

_John smirked. If it was clear for them, they would have caught him by now. He wasn’t going to answer them, though. Giving them his voice would let them know where_ he _was just as much as it gave them away to_ him. 

_Rodney may think he was incapable of logic, sometimes, but John knew the value of both logic and chaos, applied properly to the situation as it happened._

John... 

_It was a low voice, soft and familiar... a voice he trusted almost as much as he trusted himself._

John... I am here. I am with you... 

_He stopped and tilted his head, listening. There was warmth along his back where his wound was, he could feel it like a gentle hand caressing his skin, her hand sliding over his skin and easing the cold ache there._

John, Rodney is waiting for you. He is working for you. Follow my light, John. Follow my voice, my beloved son... follow my light... 

_A tiny blue light, faint and barely visible, floated up before his eyes, a tiny firefly of Ancient light, and it began to move away from him. John heard Kinsey’s cackle just behind him. “We’re coming for you, Sheppard! We are so close to you, and you will become one of us! Don’t fear us, Sheppard, don’t fight us... you will be one, with us, and you will feel sooooo much better...”_

Follow the light, John, _she said softly._ I will lead you to Rodney, and home... 

_The Ancient firefly danced in front of him, and with a smile, he followed it, letting the tiny, dim light lead him away from Kinsey, and the chittering voices to a promise of warmth and home..._

 

 

 

“Get him under the machine!” Rodney shouted as John’s body arched. “Dammit, why didn’t we think to adjust this so we could put him into this thing in a prone position?” he snarled at Radek. 

“Because it wasn’t _designed_ to use on someone in a prone position,” Radek snarled back as he pushed the Colonel’s resisting body up into place. “And we... didn’t have time... to adapt it... we need bungees!” 

“No,” said Teyla from behind them. “Put him in stasis first...” 

“Teyla, that would mean putting a stasis chamber into the Ascension machine and we just don’t have time to figure out the mechanics of that,” Rodney began, but she was shaking her head. 

“No, you misunderstand me,” she said, then turned to Carson. “Doctor, could we not put Colonel Sheppard in stasis, remove him while he is in stasis, and then put him in the Ascension machine? Would he not remain in stasis in the time it takes to remove him and then put him in the Ascension machine?” 

Carson frowned. “Frankly, Teyla, I... don’t know what it would do to his body...” 

“John is much tougher than any of you are giving him credit for,” Teyla said insistently. “The Iratus DNA changed him.... _use it_. Bring a stasis chamber up here, put him in it, and then transfer him to the Ascension machine!” 

Rodney stared at her, mind working rapidly, then he nodded. “I see where she’s going with this. Not exactly in stasis, more like... the beginning stages of it, just enough to...’’ 

“Slow functions down and give us more time,” finished Carson, and he was rushing out the door, calling for Marines to help him move a stasis chamber to the Ascension room. 

“Hang in there, John,” Rodney said as they laid him back on the gurney. He took one of John’s hands in his, pressing it to his cheek. “Don’t leave me,” he whispered. “Just... don’t leave me, John. Don’t go where I can’t follow...” 

 

 

 

_”Don’t go where I can’t follow...” came Rodney’s voice in a rough whisper._

_John looked up, listening intently. “Not leaving you, buddy,” he whispered back._

_A hand came down on his shoulder, and he was roughly turned around. A grinning Kinsey loomed into his face. “At last, I have you!” the man crowed. The chittering around them increased in triumph. “You will become one of us, Sheppard! We shall have you, and we shall have control!” He pulled John closer and John grimaced at the man’s fetid breath. “You are closer to us than you are to them, you know. We find the Iratus very attractive, very... similar to us...”_

_Even as his body stiffened, he felt warmth filling him, warmth and light and a voice in his mind whispering,_ Stay strong, my warrior. Stay strong for your heart, _and he knew she meant Rodney._

_Kinsey’s hands were pushing him down, the robed figures surrounding them again as the pressure increased. “At last, I shall have your mind, Sheppard... and I shall feast upon your resistance as the paltry thing it is...”_

 

 

 

“Having Sheppard won’t guarantee you having control of this facility,” said Daniel, keeping his expression neutral. 

The black soldier smirked. “Control of Atlantis gives us control of the Ancient devices you find so precious, and that gives us control of the Gates. You will not be able to escape us. You will be absorbed into the Hive.” He laughed, and it was echoed by the people behind him, by the soldiers gathered in their formations beyond them, and they all said in unison, “You will become one... with us...” 

“Holy fuck,” Cam murmured behind him. “Holy fuck... what the hell?” 

 

 

 

_John closed his eyes and gathered his strength, feeling the warmth in him growing, “I... will not... give in,” he snarled between clenched teeth, and he pushed back at Kinsey, who blinked in surprise, then laughed._

_”You are strong, Sheppard, I will give you that,” Kinsey said, his grin maniacal now. “But I am stronger! I... have the strength of the Hive behind me!”_

 _“And_

I,” _said John, bracing himself as the firefly danced around his head, the voice of the city reassuring him, filling him with the strength of those waiting for him back in Atlantis, “have the love and strength of_ my family _behind_ ME!!” 

 

 

 

“Hit it! Now, Radek!” shouted Rodney as he stepped back from positioning John under the machine. He hoped like hell their modifications to the Ascencion machine did it’s job. 

The city hummed around them, lights flashing, and Radek stepped back from the console, cursing in Czech. 

“What is it?” Rodney asked, rushing toward the console, but Radek caught him and pulled him back. “Radek, what is it?” 

“The city, she is taking over!” the little engineer said, and he wrapped his arms around Rodney when he would have surged to the console. “Let her! She knows what she is doing!” 

“Trust Atlantis,” said Teyla, coming up to add her own embrace and strength. There was no mistaking the tears sparkling on her cheeks. “Trust Atlantis, Rodney.” 

He looked into her eyes, then back at John’s grimacing face. “He’s my life!” he shouted suddenly. “He’s my life, and if you don’t bring him back to me, just... just kill me! Because... I’m not doing this without him, you understand? You under... stand?” He collapsed into Teyla and Radek’s arms, and they held him while the lights wrapped around John and the city hummed with power. 

“Believe in him, Rodney,” Teyla whispered fiercely into his ear. “He needs your belief just as much as we do. You love him... _use it to give him strength!_ He’s not leaving you without a fight, Rodney... so... make him fight!” 

“ _JOHN!! DAMMIT!!!_ ” 

 

 

 

_He was filled with light, and power, and strength, and that last cry of fury, anger, and desperate love from Rodney filled him with the anger he needed._

_“You will become one of us,” said Kinsey, pushing down on his shoulders, trying to force him to kneel. “And we will have Atlantis...”_

_John stood firm. “You will not have me,” he said calmly, his eyes closed. “I... am Atlantis, and no one controls me that I do not wish.” He opened his eyes and spread his arms and his legs wide, his head falling back as he let the light and the heat filling him free._

_Kinsey screamed as light burned through the greyness, the rough hands releasing John as Atlantis’ voice filled him and echoed through the mist._

“I am Ancient, and I stand between the Darkness and the human world. You may hold Earth for a short time, but I will return, and I will drive you back to the darkness as I have done before. Flee from my wrath, creatures, flee back to your darkness and touch my beloved son never again...” 

 

 

 

John sat up abruptly, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath as hands tried to push him back down to the gurney, and he turned his head trying to see through bleary eyes. “Rodney?” he croaked, needing to see him. “Rodney, where... where...” 

Familiar big hands gripped his, and he looked up. Rodney was there, staring at him, terror, love, and worry in his eyes. “I’m here, John, I’m here...” 

His face was grasped and he was kissed fiercely, then Rodney was easing him back down on the gurney. “You’re okay, John,” he said, staring into his eyes. “It worked, the Ascension machine freed you, and it’s safe to sleep now. Let Carson take care of you, okay?” 

He held onto Rodney’s hand desperately. “Real?” he asked, staring into those blue, blue eyes, willing himself to believe it. 

“Real, John,” Rodney said quietly. “We’re real. You’re really here. Atlantis saved you.” 

_Sleep, my son. I will guard your rest..._

John closed his eyes, and slept. 

 

 

 

Daniel, Cameron Mitchell, and Teal’c watched in varying degrees of amazement as the men and women in front of the shield, and their cohorts in their formations behind them, all screamed and grabbed at the back of their necks, some of them collapsing while others staggered before regaining their feet. 

The man who had spoken to them before lifted his head and whispered, “Help me. For God’s sake, get this thing out of my head...” 

Daniel impulsively started to lift his hand to his radio, but he stopped himself, hard lessons learned in the past telling him to wait. 

Sure enough, the man straightened and grinned at him. “Interesting,” he said, and stepped back from the shield. “You may have won this round, but we have infinite patience. We will try again, and next time, you won’t be so lucky.” 

They watched as the would-be invaders withdrew, disappearing almost as quickly as they’d appeared. 

“They’re being tracked?” Daniel asked without turning his head. 

“You got it,” said Mitchell softly. “We’ll find out where they’re hiding, and then we’ll see what’s what.” 

“Yeah,” said Daniel, not quite convinced. “Yeah, we’ll see what’s what.” 

He needed a drink. And he needed Jack. Not necessarily in that order. 

 


	51. A Brief Note

There will be a brief hiatus while my laptop is repaired. One of my cats has a fresh water fetish and cannot leave a glass of liquid untouched. She tumped a glass with almost an inch of water in it over onto my laptop, which was closed and off, but water got in it and pretty much fried it. The hard drive may have to be replaced, and it will be at least a week before I get it back. My daughter is generously allowing me to use her laptop for now, which is great, but won't allow me the time to update on AO3. 

I want to thank everyone who has been following this story. Don't worry, I'll keep updating. It may take me a while, but I will keep updating!


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